Six Feet Under The Stars
by Dessa-fly
Summary: Violet Rosebloom always knew that attending Hogwarts and learning magic would be difficult, but she never guessed that two red headed twins would be able to make it a whole lot harder. Fred/OC, kind of random, hope you like it!
1. Chapter 1

"Violet Rosebloom," called Professor McGonagall, and I walked forward. I don't really see the whole point of it, sitting in front of everyone in the school while some teacher puts an old (_talking_) hat on your head? I'm definitely sure there are easier ways to figure out what house we should all be in.

I sat on the stool, keeping my eyes down, thinking about all of the different options I was facing. Slytherin? Well, I like the color green, but I can't say that all of the supposed evil-ness really fits me. Plus snakes kind of creep me out.

Ravenclaw? Well, I always did get okay grades, but nothing that I'd really brag about.

Hufflepuff? Being nice all of the time seems harder than any of the others! I guess I could fit in there, with all of the other people who were 'left over'.

Gryffindor? Well now that's tough. I'm not really all that brave, but if my dweeb of an older brother could make it in there, then I guess you don't really have to be. Hmm, Gryffindor… Gryffindor… Gryffindor!

It took me a little while to realize that I hadn't actually been the one thinking that. "Oy! Rosebloom! The rest of us need to be sorted too!" called a familiarly _annoying_ red haired boy while his twin and the other students laughed.

Well, I was in Gryffindor now, and a proper Hogwarts student, so as much as the _stupid_ Weasley twins might annoy me, I would just have to suck it up and be a lady about it. I made my way to the Gryffindor table, trying to salvage whatever self-respect I still had. I sat down next to a purple haired girl who was grinning at me. "Hi," I said.

"Nice to meet you," she replied. "I'm Olivia Jones, but you can call me Livy, I'm a first year too."

I grinned, while at the same time feeling bad that I hadn't remembered that she had also been up there being sorted. "So, are you as totally freaked out as I am?" I asked, and she laughed.

"Oh, definitely!" she replied, and we both started laughing. Okay, so so far this whole thing wasn't going all too badly. Well, that's what I thought.

I glanced back up to the stool, and the people sitting on it being sorted. "Gryffindor!" the hat called out twice in a row, as the two red haired boys that, even though I'd only just met them, had already made my life so miserable in the brief span of time that we'd known each other, were now in the same house as me.

Bloody-freaking-hell.


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up bright and early for the first day of school. It's not like I was _really _looking forward to it, I mean, _going back to school?_ But I was still pretty excited to see some people, and try out some magic.

Since school ended last year for the summer, I was basically cut off from magic as a whole, thanks to my muggle parents, and the stupid 'no magic while you're under age' rule. That was all about to change though, and as soon as I grabbed my already packed trunk and headed down the stairs, I vowed that this coming year would be different.

I wasn't just going to let those _annoying_ Weasley twins walk all over me like I had in the past.

At the beginning of my first year, I could've easily said that I was just over-reacting, and that my year would get better. But that didn't happen.

Now that I was about to enter into my sixth year, and my time at Hogwarts was nearly over, I knew better.

In the space of those five years, the Weasley twins had got over their rude, heckling phase, and we'd become good friends. Ha, yeah right.

Instead, over those five, painful years, they've dyed my hair over six different colors, used spells to glue everything in my bag together, made everything I ate for a week taste like dirt, mimicked my voice so that I got in trouble with nearly all of my teachers, sent love notes signed with my name to Snape, and that's just the beginning. I guess you could say that we didn't exactly get along. That would be just about the understatement of the decade.

"Violet, come have some breakfast!" my mom called from in the kitchen, and I grabbed some cereal before sitting down to think some more.

In all of those years, I had just basically let them do whatever they wanted, and let everyone else laugh at me afterwards, because I never really liked confrontation of any kind. Now, however, I promised myself that I would fight back. I had sent my (cough—only) friend Livy a letter by owl a few days ago telling her basically this, and she was overjoyed, as she's been waiting for about five years for me to say that.

Everyone put up with whatever the twins dished out because that was just them, and it was 'funny', but I for one would no longer stand for it. "Oh, shoot, look at the time. Run and get dressed, dear, or you'll miss your train," my mom said, glancing at the clock. I nodded, and dashed up the stairs, throwing on a pair of jeans, boots, and a t-shirt that I'd specially picked out to make myself look as great as possible.

Five minutes later, and I was at King's Cross station, walking as fast as I could towards the barrier/hidden entry to Platform 9 and ¾ when someone walked out in front of me, sending me, my trunk, and my less-than-thrilled cat flying.

"Oh crap, I'm so sorry," came a voice that sounded oddly familiar…

I stood up, and finally realized who it was. Standing before me, looking surprised as I pushed the hair out of my face, grabbed my enraged cat, and pulled my trunk back to my side, was George Weasley.

"Oy, George, hurry up," called a nearly identical voice, coming from a nearly identical boy.

Fred and George Weasley were both standing in front of me, with mischievous smirks on their faces, blocking my way through the barrier.

"Long time no see, Rosebloom," Fred said, grinning. It wasn't a friendly 'nice to see you again' grin. It was more like a scary 'I'm already thinking of some new and horrible pranks to pull on you' kind of grin.

"Yeah, you too," I mumbled, just wanting to be on the train and heading towards Hogwarts.

"I'm so sorry I knocked you over," said George, but it no longer sounded genuine at all. He had the same 'plotting pranks' grin on his face that Fred did. The same one that I'd grown used to over all these years. I couldn't say that they weren't good looking though, and the grin that always promised bad things for me _did_ look pretty cute. Or, that's what anyone else would think, of course.

"Violet, come on, I haven't seen you in _forever,_ let's get going!" Thank god for Olivia. She called to me from beside the barrier, behind Fred and George, giving me just enough of a confidence boost to push past them, muttering, "It was nice to see you," and passing through the barrier with Livy.

I glanced backwards quickly to see that they were at least a little shocked that I had actually done something rather than just waiting for them to start picking on me. I stood up a little bit straighter, with a grin on my face as I followed Livy onto the train. This year was going to be different.

We walked up and down the train twice, before realizing that we weren't going to get a decent compartment, so instead we settled on an empty one with a window that was stuck open, making it really cold.

"How's my little Poppy?" Livy said to my cat. She was basically the only one, besides me (sometimes), who could pet my cat without loosing one of her fingers. Poppy purred and sat on her lap.

"So, how was your summer?" I asked Livy, and she launched into an explanation of just how amazing her summer was. I had to admit, I was a bit jealous of her with her pureblood, very magic-y, but also very nice family. Not to mention the fact that she had three older brothers—some times I hated being an only child.

She was talking about how her oldest brother, Jonathan, recently got a spot on a major Quiddich team, when someone knocked on the compartment door.

"Uh, can we sit here? Every where else is full," came a familiar voice. Fred and George Weasley were both standing there, looking at Livy, who looked at me. Apparently it took them that long to realize that Livy hadn't just been talking to herself, and Fred's eyes widened a little bit.

Livy nodded slowly, a weird look in her eyes. Oh no, she was probably coming up with all sorts of different pranks to try out on them. I'm pretty sure that if she wasn't friends with me, she would totally fit in with the twins. I was kind of mad at myself for pulling her away from this really awesome life that she could have, but she seemed happy—and loyal, thank god, otherwise my life at Hogwarts would be utterly unbearable.

"Is there any way that you can shut that window?" Fred asked as he and George sat down, reaching over me to try and fiddle with the window.

As soon as his arm brushed against my own I felt my face getting very red, and from the look on Livy's face, she definitely noticed, and was going to pick on me mercilessly about it once we arrived at Hogwarts.

When he'd finally given up, Fred sat back down—next to me! George was sitting across from him, next to Livy, who was busying herself with petting Poppy. Oh god, this was going to be a _long_ train ride.


	3. Chapter 3

**This is really short, and a long time coming, so I'm really sorry! I've just been really busy, and I desperately wanted to just get out another chapter, so sorry that it's really awful, and short, and all that other stuff.**

**_Disclaimer: Harry Potter and everything related to it is (c) JK Rowling. Does anything NOT belong to her, really?_  
**

"Livy, we should probably change," I said quietly as I realized how close we were to Hogwarts.

The ride up till now had been, to say the least, very awkward. Olivia—as much as I love how much solidarity we've had up till now—had started talking to the twins and had become anything from friends to acquaintances in the few hours it had taken the train to get this far. I, on the other hand, had stayed silent virtually the entire time.

At least I'd stashed a book in my coat pocket, or I might have virtually died of boredom. That, or hypothermia. After Fred's failed attempt to close the window, no one else had really bothered to try again. Then again, no one else was sitting directly in front of the window either.

I bit down on my lip to stop myself from shivering too obviously, and gave Livy a somewhat pleading look that I don't think she totally understood. Fred and George, on the other hand, were looking at me ever so slightly like I had two heads.

Maybe it was because I hadn't spoken the other time, or because they didn't get why I might want to change in the washrooms or something—come on, it's not like I was a _girl_ or anything—but I suddenly felt my cheeks going very red.

Olivia sighed, almost as though she was making a huge sacrifice by doing this, grabbed a bag that was by her feet, stood up, and left the compartment ahead of me. When we were both walking down the hall to the bathrooms, she said, "What was that about?"

"What?" I asked, two parts confused with a dash of frustration.

"Never mind," she said, shaking her head, but I still got the sense that something remained. I shrugged, and followed her into the bathroom.

We changed quickly, and were making our way back to the compartment, when I heard a 'thump' sound, and just realized what I'd done. In my utter desperation to leave the compartment, I'd just left all of my precious belongings with Fred and George Weasley. Oh, crap.

I started walking more quickly, and Livy followed suit, whether she knew why I was doing what I was doing or not.

I nearly through the compartment door off of its hinges. The twins both looked up in surprise, leaving me blushing, sheepish, and mildly sick to my stomach. George had his belt undone and his tie was looped around his neck but not properly tied. Fred, on the other hand, had his shirt totally off. I'd forgotten that they'd have to change too—and now I felt the intense need to clean my eyes out with bleach.

"Gah!" I said, or something like that, before clasping my hands over my eyes and turning around.

"What's going on, Vi?" Livy asked from behind me. I stepped to the side, still facing the opposite direction with my eyes covered. I guess I must've looked pretty comical, because the twins sniggered a bit, and even Livy giggled.

"You can open your eyes now," said Fred, and I did, fully realizing just how childish, prudish, and stupid I was being.

I opened my eyes and turned back around to see George fully dressed, and Fred pulling a jacket over his shirt. "S-sorry," I mumbled, feeling like a complete idiot. He shrugged, and sat down again, along with George and Livy. I took this opportunity to sit as far away from both Fred and the window as I could. I was totally breaking my agreement with myself to be strong and brave this year, but I was definitely more used to filling the role of the shy and push-over-y girl.

Soon enough the train stopped and we all bailed out of the compartment and train basically as fast as we could, and then I realized that I was missing something. "Livy! Have you seen Poppy?" I shouted over the sounds of the stupid giddy first years.

She shook her head, and my eyes widened. I know it's lame, but Poppy was definitely one of my best friends. Plus, who wouldn't be sad if they left their cat on a train?

I ran back towards the train, pushing younger students—and a few older ones—as I went. Ignoring a lot of the angry grumblings, and even a few shouts, I made my way back to the compartment, frustrated and scared. If my cat, Poppy, wasn't in there, what was I supposed to do?

Again, I nearly through the door off of its hinges—I just hoped that it wouldn't fall off, or something—and was shocked by what I saw.

There was Fred Weasley, sitting on one of the seats with a bag next to him, and Poppy purring contentedly on his lap.

I had never before really wondered how I could tell the twins apart. Sometimes I couldn't, but now, for some odd reason, I was just 100% sure that sitting in the compartment right now, looking at me with wide, 'WTF' eyes, was Fred.

"Um, that's my cat," I said in a small voice, looking at the ground, wondering whether or not I'd be able to self destruct just by hoping I would enough.

"Oh, sorry, I just forgot something," he said, and moved to get up. Then I noticed that he'd been petting her. She'd been purring. My cat, Poppy, death machine, hate on four legs, liked him. And a tiny voice in my head piped up, saying that I just might like him too.


	4. Chapter 4

**I haven't published a chapter in a while, and I just thought I should let you know that I won't be--for this story--for a while after this! I have a more descriptive explanation later on in the story, so please read that and don't think of me as super lame--even though I am. Ha, again, thank you, and I'm sorry! :)**

**_Disclaimer: Everything Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'd try and come up with a more witty disclaimer, but I have a bad sore throat... "Can I turn on the radio?" Ha, sorry, watching the Simpsons. Bye! _  
**

"Stupid Tri-freaking-Wizard-_freaking_-tournament. Ugh." I mumbled, trying to finish an essay that Snape had given us, mostly just out of spite.

Today we'd found out that Hogwarts was going to be hosting the first Tri Wizard Tournament to be held in quite a while, which made a lot of students excited. I wasn't one of them. I, quite frankly, had hoped that this year would pass by rather uneventfully so that I could focus as much of my energy as possible on pranking the twins—well, probably about half of it convincing myself to do so, and then the rest on it!—but apparently the universe (or Dumbledore) had other plans.

"That's some vocabulary," said a voice from behind me.

"Thanks, Liv," I said sarcastically, barely glancing up.

"You're welcome?" she replied from the chair in front of me, where I'd forgotten she'd been sitting.

I practically got whiplash, turning around to see who'd spoken to me. I saw none other than Fred Weasley standing there, grinning.

"What do you want?" I asked, mustering up all my spunk and impoliteness into that one, short sentence.

"Oh, wow, Violet, I never knew you could be so kind," he said.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my essay, mostly because I couldn't think of any decent retort, and I could feel my face becoming red.

Livy caught my eye as I tried to focus on my paper, and sent me a knowing look, which made me very confused. "I can tell where I'm truly appreciated," Fred said sarcastically before walking away to join George at the other end of the common room.

"What was that about?" I hissed at Olivia.

"Isn't it obvious?" she asked with another knowing look that was making me somewhat annoyed.

I shook my head fervently. "He likes you!" she responded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I paused for a moment, stunned, before shaking my head again. "Of course he doesn't," I replied, sneaking a glance at where the twins were standing.

"Whatever you have to tell yourself," she said, laughing lightly, before turning to her own homework.

***

The next morning the sun came up annoyingly quickly, streaming through the windows in blinding fashion, and making me wake up far too early on the first Saturday that I'd spent at Hogwarts in a long time.

* * *

**Hi! Just in case you hadn't noticed, it took me quite a while to publish this, and, which you probably **_**had**_** noticed it's not that great—nor is it very long. Basically, I can't come up with any ideas! That's a horrible excuse, not even an excuse, really, but anyways, I read volume two of "The Night World" and, to say the least, it was completely amazing, but it made me kind of think in a way that is incredibly lame to have been provoked by a book.**

**Anyways, have you ever felt like you don't quite belong somewhere, and you want to run away? Or you don't quite feel like yourself, or, at least, you don't feel like the self that other people know you as? Do you ever feel like you just wish something… **_**interesting**_** would happen in your life?**

**That's deep, I know, haha. More like lame, but whatever. Anyways, I'm feeling very unlike myself in this way, and so I really don't want to write any of this story now. I'm wearing eyeliner, for God's sake, which I can't normally do without blinding myself, so of course something must be different! Well, that, and also I just have no ideas, like I said before!**

**So, yeah, I'm putting this story on hiatus for now—although I'm not one hundred percent sure how to do that officially, but I'll try and find out. **

**Oh, and I do still plan on carrying on with my "I hate wolves" story, because I still have a lot of plot ideas for it, and I know what I'm going to do with it, well, up to a point. **

**Yeah! Again, I'm really sorry, but I'm sure that within a few weeks I'll definitely have come up with some ideas! I'm still really sorry, and lame, again, haha. Well, bye!**


	5. Chapter 5

**So it's been... a long time. A time. Sorry, it's like, almost 1 am and I'm so tired. Not the best time to announce my (triumphant?) return to Fanfiction. I'm so sorry that it took me so long to get my stuff back together and continue this story. I'm so sorry that I completely left you hanging for almost two years (WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH ME!). I'm sorry I'm such a jerkface and I just hope you can forgive me.**

**Anyways, back to the basics. Harry Potter and the whole world that goes with it is (c) JK Rowling. I own Vi, Livy, and Vi's cat Poppy, who, tragically, doesn't feature in this chapter, SORRY! Eventually I'll just do a whole fic devoted to her, haha. **

**Hope you like it :)  
**

I checked the clock on my bedside table and saw that it was only 6:30 in the morning—yet I was totally awake. _Great._

I tossed and turned under the covers for a few minutes, but pretty soon it became obvious that there was no way I was getting back to sleep. I grudgingly dragged myself to my dresser and threw a sweater over my Chuddly Canons night gown. It was 6:30 in the morning—as if I was going to put on real clothes.

I grabbed a book from the stash under my bed—what? Reading is sexy!—and amazingly made it to the common room without falling down the stairs and smashing my skull open. Good start to the morning.

Just as I was scoping out the perfect couch to cuddle up on for the rest of the morning, I heard voices coming from the other side of the common room. Two voices, to be specific—two voices that I distinctly recognized but hoped to God I was mistaken... Maybe not such a good start to the morning.

The Weasley twins were huddled over a table, whispering to each other. I rubbed my eyes to clear the sleep dust—and hope that they went away. When that didn't work, I turned around and started up the stairs, but I stubbed my toe on the first step and cried, "Bloody hell!"

I threw my hands over my mouth and stood as still as possible, hoping and praying that the wall of the staircase would hide me. "Rosebloom?" Fred asked after a moment.

Guess not.

I took a deep breath, toe still throbbing, and replied, "Yeah?" That was all, just one word, but somehow it was enough to give me some confidence. This year was supposed to be different, right? Well, there was no way I could stand up for myself while hiding in my pjs.

"What the hell are you doing there?" he and George stood in front of me, eyebrows raised.

I fought the urge to run back up the stairs and hide under my blankets. I couldn't hide all year. "Stubbed my toe," I muttered and pushed past them. I didn't get far, though. Sitting on the table they had been huddled over was a leather bound book that I distinctly recognized from the restricted section of the library.

"Where did you get that?" I asked casually, as if I didn't already know.

"None of your business, is it Rosebloom?" Fred snapped and George shot me a matching glare.

"Fine then, Weasley," I snapped back and sat on an armchair as far away from the twins as I could get. I checked a clock hanging on the wall nearby—7:00. Great, only _five more hours_ till Livy woke up.

"No, George, the spell is back here—give me that," I heard Fred say. As hard as I tried to get into my book, I can't focus with his annoying—if a tiny, _tiny_ bit charming—voice in my head.

Then I heard a page rip.

"What are you doing?" I asked, bolting off the chair and over to their side of the common room.

"I think we've already established that, Rosebloom," Fred smirked at George who continued.

"None of your—"

"Alright, alright," I threw up my hands. "None of my business, I get it, but I recognize that book from the restricted section of the library, and I know it's full of some seriously powerful spells. Oh, and if you rip it, I will personally hex the crap out of you."

Fred and George both stared at me, mouths open wide in disbelief. It took me a moment to clue in—not only was that the most I'd ever said to them, I had just stood up to Fred and George Weasley.

And I felt good.

I could hear the clock on the wall ticking loudly and slowly the total bliss I'd been feeling a minute ago faded. I was standing in front of the Weasley twins wearing nothing but a night gown and a sweater—and they were staring at me. I didn't feel so good anymore.

"Chuddly Canons, huh?" George recovered first and surveyed my outfit—or lack thereof.

My face is the same color as the logo on my night gown when I reply. "Um, yeah. They're my favourite quiddich team."

"Ron's too," he replied, sounding almost conversational. If I didn't know any better, I would think I was talking to someone _other_ than my arch enemies. Wow, who reads too many books? Yeah, me.

"You like quiddich?" Fred asked, apparently only now cluing back in.

"Yes," I said, making my voice sound as forceful as I can.

"How come you're never at the games?" he asked, "Or the after parties?"

_I don't know, maybe because there are two beaters on the team that I would do almost anything to avoid._

"Busy," I shrugged, staring at my bare feet.

A moment later, Fred and George turned back to their spell book and I made my way back to the armchair with my book. This time, though, I didn't even bother trying to focus. Instead, I let the text blur before my eyes as I listened to Fred and George's mumbled voices as they planned who knows what kind of deviousness—and I tried not to worry that some of their plans might just be targeted at me.


	6. Chapter 6

**...And here we go! Chapter six, and still no real plot-sorry about that. I was wondering if you (presuming there is a "you" somewhere out there, reading this) like shy protagonists? A lot of my protagonists are shy just because I am and that's how I would handle certain situations, which makes them easier to write. For instance, Violet is shy but she's trying her best to stand up to the Weasley twins, but would it be better reading if she was just all out, "I HATE YOU!"? **

**Let me know your thoughts, and I hope you enjoy the chapter :)**

**HP is (c) JK Rowling  
**

"You did WHAT?" Livy spat out her pumpkin juice, nearly getting it all over my white t-shirt. Thankfully I changed out of my Chuddly Canons night gown before coming down for a very late breakfast.

"Well, I woke up early and no one else was around..." I muttered. I had told her about my run in with the Weasley twins that morning and she wouldn't let it go.

"So what _exactly_ did they say?" Livy put her elbows on the table and narrowed her eyes like a detective interrogating a criminal on a muggle crime show. She meant business.

I told her what had happened as well as I could remember it, for the _third_ time. When I was done I sighed at her suspicious expression and said, "Next time do you want me to bring a tape recorder?"

"A what?" she asked, confused.

"It's a muggle thing used to record what people say, then play it back," I said. I was used to explaining muggle objects to her by now. "Actually, I think there's a spell for that..."

"That's brilliant!" Livy cried, totally freaking out the first years sitting a few feet away from us. "We'll set it to record everything the Weasleys say to you so I don't have to deal with your sucky re-enactments!"

"Hey, I thought my re-enactments were pretty good," I said and ate a bite of toast.

Livy rolled her eyes, and then put a hand to her forehead, looking thoughtful. "Wait a sec... He asked you why you weren't at any of the games, right?"

"What?" I asked, completely lost.

"Fred," Livy said like it was completely obvious. Then again, it probably was, but I was having a hard time focussing on what she was saying while trying to stay awake. Waking up at 6:30 had some seriously bad health effects—I don't care what all those crazy early-risers say.

"Fred asked you why you weren't at any of the quiddich games or after parties."

"Um, yeah," I said after thinking about it for a moment. "So?"

"You _idiot!_" Livy cried and the first years got up and walked out of the great hall, shooting us dirty looks. "That means he noticed you weren't there. That means he was looking for you."

It took a second for what she said to dawn on me, and by that time I was ready to puke up my belated breakfast. "Livy, you can't be serious."

She nodded, smirking, "Oh, I'm more than serious—I'm _thrilled._"

"Well, that makes one of us."

"Chin up, Little Miss Cranky-pants. Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your shoes?" Livy said in baby-talk. "Plus, you'll have a guaranteed date to the Yule Ball. I'll start looking for dresses ASAP."

"The Yule _what?_"

"It's part of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Around Christmas time the three schools are going to be hosting a ball—basically the party of the year," Livy said, eyes lighting up as she spoke.

"And you know this how?"

"I have my sources."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help smiling a little. A dance _would_ be a nice break from normal classes, just as long as the Weasleys didn't hex my dress so it lit on fire or something—but I didn't think they'd stoop that low. Dying my hair lime green was more their style—and not a decent look for any self-respecting Gryffindor.

"So what do you have planned for today?" I asked as we left the table and headed back to the common room.

"Whatever do you mean?" Livy asked, smiling mischievously.

"Come on. At the start of the year you _promised_ me that you had at least one prank planned to pull on the Weasleys a week. It's been a week and guess what? No prank," I pouted.

"Well, look at you, trouble maker. I might have something up my sleeve."

I didn't want to be a mean person and I certainly didn't want to hurt the twins but... a little humiliation would do them some good. Honestly, I would love to see their faces as red as their hair.

"And you're sure this is going to work?" I asked, staring at Livy apprehensively. She was holding my red Gryffindor scarf and a black trench coat.

"Are you kidding? With _my_ genius brain?" when I scoffed, she giggled a little and continued. "Listen, everyone knows the twins want to enter the Tri-Wizard Tournament but they're a tiny bit too young and desperate for a way to get around Dumbledore's age line. Everyone _also_ knows that you're a brilliant witch. Just offer to help them and let me take care of the rest," she cackled wickedly.

"Question: won't they think it's a little weird that I'm suddenly so willing to help them out? We're not exactly best buds."

"Oh please, if today was any indication, they want to make peace with you—or at least hang out. And it doesn't hurt that Fred totally has the hots for you."

I stared at Livy, open mouthed, grasping for words. Finally I managed, "If you _ever_ say 'has the hots for you' again, I will _murder_ you!"

Livy giggled and shoved the clothes at me. I quickly slipped the trench coat over my t-shirt and jeans and tied the scarf into a loose knot. "How do I look?" I asked, biting my lip.

"Like you're out to start trouble," she said, grinning.

"Isn't that a bad thing since I'm supposed to be all _incognito_?"

"Incognito's one thing—but you know how undercover agents are always absolutely gorgeous?" I nodded, laughing. Livy's watched way too many muggle movies at my house. "You're like them. Hot, dangerous, and out to get everyone."

"Oh please," I rolled my eyes. I couldn't help but smile at Olivia who was sitting cross legged at the foot of my bed, her hair up in a loose bun, pinned with a quill. She was crazy, funny, spontaneous and kind. She was my best friend and I couldn't be happier.

Pranking the Weasleys would be the cherry on the top.

I found Fred and George sitting under a tree outside, discussing something with their friend Lee Jordan. If they were planning something—and, as far as little old paranoid _me_ was concerned, they were _always_ planning something—they were doing it in broad daylight which seemed a little off.

"I would've thought you guys were more of the _lurking in the shadows_ type," I said before I could stop myself.

"What?" the three of them whirled around to face me, two parts confused with a dash of frustration.

"Um," with all of their eyes on me, I tried my best to maintain my confidence. "Y-you seem like the kind of people who would do their planning at night—huddled in dark alleys, lurking in the shadows, that kind of thing. Waking up at 6 AM doesn't really seem your style."

"Who says we're planning anything?" Lee asked but he, at least, was grinning. We had herbology together last year and I helped him study for his exams.

"Please," I rolled my eyes. At least with Lee there I could relax a little.

"What are you doing here, anyways?" Fred asked, frowning a little. "And since when are you talking to us—wait, scratch that, since when are you _talking_."

That stung a little. I might be shy, but that's only because of how much the twins have tormented me. At least, that's what I tried to convince myself even as I felt my heart beat a little faster when Fred stared at me.

"Hey, lay off, mate. If it weren't for Violet, I would still be trying to get through fifth year herbology," Lee said, smiling. I could've kissed him for that but somehow—_somehow—_I restrained myself.

"Well, what are you doing _here_?" George asked. Livy had helped me practice what I was going to say when they asked this, so I was ready. Yes, as lame as that sounds, I needed to rehearse. She acted as Fred and we got Ginny Weasley, their younger sister, to act as George. She's three years younger than us, but she was thrilled at the idea of pranking her brothers.

"I heard you need a way to get past Dumbledore's age line," I said, trying not to let my nerves get to my voice. "And I think I have a way to help."

I gave Fred and George all of the instructions for making an aging potion—with a few extra steps Livy and I thought of to increase the strength. When they had everything written down, Fred looked up at me and asked, "Why are you helping us?"

I remembered the lines Livy, Ginny and I had practiced, but Fred looked so earnest—he really believed I was there to help him. I could feel my face turning red and I knew I was losing my nerve. Right at that moment, I didn't want anything bad to happen to him.

Then I thought back on the time that he and George put a spell on my shoes to make me trip every five minutes and I didn't feel so bad.

"To tell the truth..." I began coyly. "I want a truce."

"Truce?" George repeated.

"Yeah. You know, I help you get in the tournament, you stop making my life a living hell... Everybody wins," I finished cheerfully.

"What do you mean, making your life a living hell?" Fred asked, looking genuinely curious. Oh please, like he wanted an honest answer.

"Um, dying my hair, hexing my books to slam shut on my fingers, pushing me into the lake, and, oh, don't forget those love letters you sent to Snape under my name—" I took a deep breath and stopped myself before I got too upset and plastered the same fake smile on my face. "Look, it's like I said. Everybody wins."

Lee nodded eagerly and even George was smiling. Fred, however, just stared at me sceptically.

I gave them a few more instructions then headed back to the castle with just a little spring in my step. I was just walking past the lake when I heard footsteps pounding on the grass behind me. "Hey, Violet, wait up!"

I turned around just in time to see a flash of red hair and an orange scarf before whoever it was crash landed right on top of me. "Ginny?" I managed to sit up and stare at her grinning face.

"How did it go?" she asked eagerly.

In the past few years, Ginny and I have had the odd conversation but it wasn't until Livy finally convinced me to prank the Weasley twins that we really spoke. Ginny's always been shy but once you get to know her, she's extremely outgoing and a little bit crazy—as long as you're name isn't Harry Potter, that is. She still hasn't told him she's completely in love with him. Not exactly an easy conversation, though.

"It went alright..." I began, face flushed thinking about what I'd just done. "I gave them all of our instructions; I'm just not sure if they'll go along with it."

"Oh, they'll make the potion," Ginny said.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I know my brothers," Ginny said, shrugging. "They're always up for a good adventure—and a good laugh. I think you might be a bit of both."


	7. Chapter 7

**Back again with another chapter, and this one gets WEIRD. I'll write a little note at the bottom of the chapter too, just so you don't think I'm completely insane :P See, now you have something to look forward to! By the way, can anyone suggest a good prank for Violet to pull on the twins or vice versa? Thanks for your help, you troublemakers.  
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**Harry Potter universe is (c) JK Rowling**

**Violet, Livy and Poppy are (c) me. Poppy shows up in this chapter! For like, two seconds! Look down, you'll see her name, and then it's gone!**

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My cat, Poppy, was curled up on my lap, purring away, when we heard the screams. I know that sounds all melodramatic and horror-movie-y, but these screams were distinctly male, though surprisingly high pitched, and coming from the Great Hall. Rather than being afraid, I was practically giddy.

I barely even flinched as Poppy dug her claws into my legs and when she eventually jumped off my lap, I ran to join Livy and Ginny near the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Do you think that was them?" I asked.

"Who else could it be?" Livy was grinning from ear to ear. "Although I never knew George could sound quite so..."

"Squeaky?" Ginny suggested. The two of them had matching devious expressions and I felt a twinge of guilt—what we had done wasn't going to help make peace with the Weasley twins. Quite the opposite, really.

"Do we go down there?" I asked nervously

"Hmmm..." Livy said thoughtfully. "Count to ten first."

"One, two, three," Ginny began as the last remaining people in the common room pushed past us and out the portrait hole to see what was going on.

"Four, five, six, seven," Livy continued, putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"Eight... Nine... Ten."

"You have a beard!" Fred was staring at George with a look of utter disbelief.

"So do you!" George replied, grabbing at the long, white beard that had sprouted from his chin at about eight o'clock that morning—only minutes after their aging potion was complete.

Livy, Ginny and I stuck to the back of the crowds. I didn't want to risk Fred and George spotting me and blaming me for their sudden elderly-ness in front of everyone. I wasn't ready to be labelled as a _prankster_, especially not by my peers. I'd leave that kind of public recognition for the Weasleys.

"You've got to admit, it's kind of awesome," Livy said, nudging my shoulder.

"It's more than awesome," Ginny said. "This is spectacular—I can't tell you how many times I've wished I could give Fred and George a taste of their own medicine."

"Me too," I murmured, my eyes still locked on the twins. The crowd of students that had come flooding out of the four common rooms—including some very handsome Durmstrang boys and a few annoyingly perfect girls from Beauxbatons—was roaring with laughter. Madam Pomfrey had just arrived and was trying to usher the twins to the Hospital Wing.

Then, just for a second, Fred looked through the crowds in our direction. Livy and Ginny immediately pulled back but I was stuck in place. Despite all of the people milling around between the two of us, I was sure that our eyes had met—just for an instant. And in that instant, he looked so mad...

But also, if I wasn't mistaken, a little bit proud.

"Welcome back, grandpa," Ginny giggled and tousled George's hair which was back to its natural red, thanks to Madam Pomfrey.

George scowled and flopped down on the couch next to her. "You don't want to get on my bad side—I might leave you out of my will."

Ginny burst out laughing and even George cracked a smile. Then their brother, Ron, came up to George with his friends Harry and Hermione and started teasing him, pulling him away from our group.

"Looks like you aren't quite as good a witch as you thought," Fred's voice stopped me from following Ginny and Livy up to the girls' dormitories to celebrate our success.

"Whatever do you mean, Fred?" I asked, eyes wide and innocent. I spotted Livy and Ginny near the dormitory stairs and nodded for them to go ahead. I could handle this on my own.

He laughed—a short, derisive laugh that didn't sound very amused. Then he took a step closer to me. "Your potion was a little stronger than you expected, huh?"

I also took a step forward. I wouldn't back down, not now, not ever. I don't mean to get all _motivational speaker_ on you, but really, I had already come so far this year. Standing up to Fred was like the ultimate test of my new found courage.

Merlin, if he could read minds, I would sound like _such_ a loser.

I cocked my head to the side, studying his expression. I had never looked at Fred—I mean _really _looked. Mostly it was just passing glances before I hurried to hide my face or get away from him.

His hair which, like George's, had returned to its natural, flaming red, had fallen in front of his gleaming blue eyes. The overall effect made him look even more dangerous than usual.

"I did it on purpose, you know," I said, watching his expression cautiously.

"I know." The corners of his lips twitched slightly, like he was fighting back a smile.

"So..." I began, unsure of what happened next. I had just pranked the great Fred Weasley—there had to be consequences. I felt a pang of regret. What if whatever they did to me was equally bad? What if things never got better?

"I hate to be cliché," Fred began, finally taking a step back and turning in George's direction. "But... George, why don't you tell Rosebloom what this means."

George, who was standing a few feet away, faced me and his whole expression lit up like Fred had just given him the best Christmas present of all time. I gulped.

"Oh, yeah. This means war."

"Come on, Vi, I'm sure it won't be that bad," Livy said. We were walking to Potions when we ran into Ginny and I told them what happened last night.

I glanced at Ginny and she shook her head. "I have no idea what they'll do to you, but trust me, it _will_ be that bad. When Ron was three they turned his teddy bear into a giant spider."

"Doesn't he have arachnophobia?" I asked nervously. That was stooping pretty low.

"Yup."

I gulped and nodded. I knew that Fred and George would get back at me for giving them the phoney aging potion and I should've expected some kind of retaliation. After all, I was used to constantly watching my back, but this time was different. This time, I didn't have to quietly take whatever they threw at me.

"See you later," Ginny said as we approached the dungeons.

"Look," Livy said leading me through the maze of corridors to the hall outside the Potions room that was packed with students waiting for class to start. "Let's just try and get through Potions—Fred and George can wait."

I nodded and grinned—Potions definitely wasn't my favourite class, mainly because of Professor Snape, but I did pretty well academically. When the classroom door opened and the mix of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students started filing in, Livy and I took our usual seats near the back of the room. Since our class didn't have any Slytherins, Snape had no one to favour and spent all his time looking for flaws in our potion making.

"I'll go get the newt tail and lorax root," Livy said, reading ingredients off the board at the front of the room. I nodded and started to set up our cauldron, trying to push any thoughts of the Weasley twins to the back of my mind.

"Miss Rosebloom, am I mistaken or do the instructions explicitly say not to heat the potion until all of the ingredients are combined?" I jumped when I heard Snape's low voice right behind me.

"I'm s-sorry, Professor," I stammered, hurriedly dousing the flame under my cauldron with a flick of my wand. "Y-you're right."

He glared at me then moved on to the next table. I know I'm a total wimp, but to be totally honest, Snape _terrifies _me. He's hated me ever since I started at Hogwarts because I'm a muggle born witch _and_ a Gryffindor—a combination that makes me little better than a slug to the Slytherins.

"Merlin, what crawled up his butt and died?" Livy said, dumping the ingredients on the table.

I shrugged, "Apparently something highly toxic. He was right, though, I almost ruined the potion."

"Vi, I'm going to teach you a very valuable lesson, alright?" Livy said in a mock-serious voice. I groaned. The last time she taught me a _valuable lesson_, I ended up soaking wet, waist high in the lake because she wanted to make some point about living life to the fullest.

"Life isn't all about grades," she said. "Not everyone will like or approve of what you're doing, and trust me, you'll only have a good time if you focus on the people that do."

I stared at Livy, gaping. That was... kind of profound, actually. "R-right," I said. "Chop up the newt tail while I crush the roots."

Ginny pounced on my as soon as I entered the Great Hall for lunch. "How are you?" she asked, examining me frantically. I could tell she was looking for any signs of a horrible prank. "You still have all your limbs, that's good—and your hair looks the same... Can you feel your toes? Are they all there?"

"Ginny, don't you think you're overreacting?" I asked, sitting at the Gryffindor table. "I honestly doubt your brothers would hack my toes off."

"Oh, don't underestimate us," George said, sitting down next to me, much to my shock and discomfort. "Although that's pretty gross. What's wrong with you, Gin?"

While Ginny sputtered a retort, Fred sat next to her on the opposite side of the table. "Did I miss anything?" he asked.

"Our dear sister has turned into a murderous psychopath," George said simply.

"What a shame," Fred said, piling food on to his plate. "I always suspected she was the bad egg. D'you remember when she was six and she cut the heads off all her dolls?"

"That was you!" Ginny cried.

"Oh, so it was," George grinned, stacking sandwiches on his plate. "You know, I bet that says something about our character... No idea what, though."

While they were busy wolfing down food, I stared at Ginny, wide eyed and mildly horrified. "Someone seems slightly disturbed by our eating habits, Fred," George said, smirking.

"I don't care how you eat," I said. "I'd just rather you didn't do it _here_."

"Ouch," Fred said, feigning hurt. "We know when we're not wanted."

I expected them to get up and sit with some of their friends, or maybe the rest of the quiddich team that was complaining loudly about the cancelled season, but they stayed right where they were and continued eating.

I rolled my eyes and took a bite out of a sandwich. I spotted Livy a few feet away, staring at me open mouthed. _What the hell?_ she mouthed, looking from me to the twins. I shrugged, swallowed, and mouthed back, _I have no idea._

_What?_ she mouthed.

_I have no—_"I have no idea!" I called, making Ginny and the twins look at me funny.

Livy huffed and took a seat next to Ginny. "Way to be discreet, Vi."

"How was I supposed to know you suck at reading lips—you're the one who's always mouthing things!"

"I do _not_ suck at reading lips. You need to enunciate—_eh-NUN-see-ate_."

"Did we just miss something?" George asked, confused.

"Probably," Ginny laughed.

Fred and George sat with us all through lunch and I have to admit, even though they can be mean and obnoxious as hell, they're pretty good company. Once they had consumed a ridiculous amount of food—honestly, if they eat like that every day, I have no idea how the twins stay so thin—they got up to leave. I knew I should be relieved, but I was also a little disappointed.

"We'll see you around," George said, grinning.

"Oh, and Rosebloom?" Fred said.

I swallowed a mouthful of pumpkin juice, barely. There must've been something wrong with it because it tasted kind of gross.

"Yes?" I asked. I was seriously beginning to wonder if they even knew I had a first name. They called me Violet every once in a while, but the rest of the time it was strictly _Rosebloom_.

"I would think twice before drinking the pumpkin juice again, if I were you."

And with that, Fred and George were gone, leaving me to stare at the orange liquid in horror. "You don't think they did anything to it, do you?" I asked, looking nervously from Livy to Ginny.

Before either of them could answer, I felt my stomach churn uncomfortably and I stood up and started running towards the bathroom. "What could they have done, Vi? We were sitting right next to them the entire time." Livy said calmly but the expression didn't reach her eyes.

"Relax, Violet, don't you realize they're just trying to freak out? They want you to be paranoid," Ginny explained.

"You make them sound like freaking serial killers," I said, splashing some water on my bright red face. My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest.

"Wouldn't go quite that far," Ginny said, laughing.

I was beginning to feel light headed—whether from my imagination or something else—so I put a hand on the bathroom counter to steady myself. Then I saw my skin bubbling and I screamed, "POLYJUICE POTION! How did they slip that in my drink—how is that even possible?"

"Wait a second, Polyjuice potion?" Livy said. I could see from her expression that she was processing everything and then... _ding! _"Doesn't that take, like, a million years to make—and it's super complicated. Are you sure Fred and George could pull that off?"

"They might spend more time plotting with Peeves than studying, but Fred and George do pretty well in school. If they really wanted to, they could make a Polyjuice Potion," Ginny said. I thought I could hear a hint of pride in her voice and I wanted to hug her, she was so cute. Unfortunately, I was a little busy completely freaking out.

"Just relax, Vi," Livy said. Great idea, too bad it wasn't working. I leaned against the counter, watching my face in the mirror as it slowly became more angular and masculine.

Within minutes, I was face to face with George Weasley—or, at least, his body, which also happened to be my reflection.

What. The. Hell.

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**Hello again! Totally confused? Don't blame you. I have a method to my madness, though. It might not make sense to anyone but me, and it might be intensely creepy, but I finally have a plot! Hope you'll stick around to find out what it is :) -Erika**


	8. Chapter 8

**Oh my God, why am I constantly uploading stories at midnight? Why am I constantly _staying up_ until midnight? I don't understand. Summer.**

**Hope you like this chapter, even if a little bit of it is a tad incoherent (it's MIDNIGHT, people!) ;) I'm trying to make Violet come out of her shell a little more. Unfortunately, this fanfiction is making it impossible for me to write anything original. What can I say, I'm obsessed. I am such a Weasley fangirl :D**

**Everything Harry Potter is (c) JK Rowling. Violet, Livy and Poppy are (c) MOI 3**

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I stared in the mirror in utter horror, unable to believe what I was seeing. I was a guy. I was George-freaking-Weasley, and it was all because of the Weasley twins. I had no idea what kind of crazy prank they were pulling, but this was pretty bad.

"Whoa..." Livy said, staring me up and down. I suddenly realized I was still wearing my girls' uniform—and I didn't want to think about what was under my red plaid skirt. Ew. Just ew. "Violet?"

"I-it's me," I said. It was so strange, hearing my voice coming out of George's mouth.

"What the heck?" Ginny looked totally confused. I opened my mouth to launch into an in depth explanation of the Polyjuice Potion when she cut me off. "Does anyone have a camera? We _have_ to get a picture of George in a skirt!"

"Wait, that's George?" Livy asked.

"Duh," Ginny and I answered in unison.

Livy shook her head. "I have no idea how you tell them apart. Anyways, that's the least of our problems."

"You think?" I asked, my weirdly large hands flying through the air as I tried to gesture. I ended up smacking myself in the face. It was so weird, being that tall and, well, a guy. "I don't understand why they would do this—oh no. Oh _no_."

Ginny and Livy shot me matching confused looks. "What?" Ginny asked.

"I bet they're planning some massive prank and they're going to do it while I'm looking like this! That would be just plain evil."

"Don't you think you're being just a little paranoid, Vi?" Livy asked me. Sure, she was right, but I knew the moment I let my guard down, they would get me. And yeah, I know, that sounds really paranoid. "Look on the bright side; this is the perfect time to check him out!"

I could feel my face flush the same red as my new, short hair. "Gross!" Ginny cried. Her voice echoed off of the bathroom walls and I realized that we were basically cutting class—and we could easily be caught.

I quickly shushed them and got to thinking. If Fred and George were planning some kind of epic prank, I had to hand it to them; this was a pretty good idea. Set up the arch enemy as a wolf in sheep's clothing—or however that saying goes. A girl in George's skin.

"If they are going to pull a big prank..." I began in a quiet voice. "We'll just have to beat them to it."

Ginny and Livy's faces lit up. "That's more like it!" Ginny said so loudly I covered her mouth with my hand.

Oh yeah, this year was going to be different in a big way. For one thing, I was going to get back at Fred and George Weasley. For good.

"Jeez, stop primping and get out here already!" Ginny said, tapping on the door of the boys' bathroom where I was changing. Ginny had snuck up to the boys' dormitory—did you know the stairs only turn into a slide if a boy tries to access the girls' dormitory? Sure, it's a little sexist, but it's also convenient—and gotten me one of George's uniforms. I ignored Livy's pleas to change in front of her.

"Five minutes," I replied in as low a voice as I could muster. Then, in my normal, high-pitched voice I added, "Is that better?"

"Oh yeah," Livy's voice came from right outside the door. "You sound like a boy to me."

"Aren't you supposed to be keeping watch?" I asked through the door. "I don't really want anyone walking in on me."

"It'll give you a chance to perfect your voice," Livy shot back and I could practically hear the smirk in her voice. She, at least, was enjoying herself.

"Just try not to say much," Ginny advised. I exited the stall, went to the mirror and stared at myself. I'd been doing that a lot lately—just looking at my reflection, pretending I was seeing someone else. Only this time, I really was.

Ginny had brought me a pair of pants, a dress shirt, a Gryffindor striped tie and some shoes. Most of the clothes I had been wearing were totally trashed when I morphed into George. Changing clothes in someone else's body was awkward, to say the least, but it was nowhere near as intimidating as what I was going to do next.

"What time is it?" I asked in my George-voice as I left the bathroom.

"One thirty-seven," Livy replied, glancing at her watch—a muggle style present I gave her for her last birthday. "Why?"

"Bloody hell," I muttered under my breath. "We only have twenty-three minutes left—the potion only lasts for an hour."

"Twenty-three minutes to do what, exactly?" Livy asked.

I ignored her, looked at Ginny and asked, "You got them?"

She nodded, grinning mischievously, and held out a package. I took it one hand and held it in front of my face, examining it. "You might not want to do that," she warned. "I've seen Fred and George use these and they go off pretty easily."

"What exactly is it?" Livy asked loudly.

"Dung bomb," I answered simply even though my heart was pounding in my throat.

"It's an experiment Fred and George spent most of the summer working on," Ginny explained. "Supposed to be three times as strong as an ordinary dung bomb. Trust me, they were bragging about it all the time."

I nodded and gulped. Livy, on the other hand, still looked confused. "You're going to... set that off?"

"Um, yeah, that was the idea," I mumbled, feeling my confidence waning. If Livy didn't believe in me, it was pretty hard for me to believe in myself.

She stood right in front of me, looked me up and down in my George-body, and then threw her arms around me. "I'm so proud of you!"

I grinned and hugged her back, but she pulled away quickly. "Sorry, being hugged by George Weasley... Weird." She shook her head, smiling, then turned to Ginny and added, "No offense."

Ginny just shrugged and said, "I also brought this." She held out my broomstick.

"W-what am I supposed to do with this?" I asked.

"Oh come on, you didn't think you were just going to quietly set off the dung bomb in a hallway then walk away, did you?" Ginny asked. I could feel my face heating—that was pretty much exactly what I had planned. "No one's going to know it's you. This is your chance to be totally fearless."

I grabbed the broom and nodded. She was right, if I was going to take advantage of this new found George-ness, I had to go all the way.

"You'd better hurry, too. You've got nineteen minutes and break is about to start."

I gritted my teeth—George's teeth, man, this was _weird_—and swung a leg over my broom. If I was going to do something, I had better do it now. "Good luck," Ginny said, patting me on the back.

"Give 'em hell," Livy said, grinning. I grinned back and kicked off the ground. I was about twenty feet off the ground when the bell rang and students started filing out of their classrooms.

No one spotted me, mostly because I wasn't making any noise. If I wanted to do something awesome, though, I needed people to know it was me—or rather, George. If they saw George flying in the middle of the hallway no one would suspect a thing. He was just the kind of guy who would do things like that.

"Oy!" I yelled, in my low voice, then tried again more loudly. "Oy!"

Everyone's heads turned to look at me. A few girls shrieked and a couple people laughed, but I wasn't nearly through. I held the dung bomb in one hand—a safe distance away from my face, mind you—and clutched my broom handle with the other. Then I started to fly. Fast.

I didn't try out for the Gryffindor team because I was too embarrassed and terrified at the idea of hanging out with Fred and George regularly, but I was a pretty decent flyer. Every summer, I visited Livy and her brothers who taught both of us to play quiddich.

At first, I didn't know where I was going. I just knew that I had less than twenty minutes before I bubbled back to normal, old Violet. But somewhere, at the back of my mind, what Livy said earlier that day in Potions kept coming back.

I turned a corner, narrowly avoiding the Bloody Baron, and headed straight to the dungeons.

"Hey Fred!" someone called below me. I just rolled my eyes and kept flying, throwing in the occasional flip just to entertain the students watching. I was feet from the entrance to the dungeons and the Potions room when I realized I didn't know how I was going to stop. That was the one lesson I must've missed.

Someone ahead of me was holding open the door to the Potions hallway. I tapped the dung bomb with my wand then threw it as hard as I could, narrowly avoiding the Slytherins walking in and out of the dungeons. With the ceilings getting lower, I flipped around in midair and started flying back out of the dungeons as quickly as I could.

Oh, who was I kidding, I did a little victory yell first—more like a high pitched scream. I seriously hoped no one was paying too much attention.

Then I heard some more yells coming from behind me and smelled the disgusting stench of dung bomb. It must've gone off and, if I was right, it exploded outside Snape's door.

I was so busy congratulating myself that I didn't notice my hands were beginning to bubble. I gripped the broom a little tighter, ducking to avoid a ceiling beam, and felt my whole body start to shake. I was changing back to normal in midair above a crowd of students who were all cheering on George Weasley. Only I wasn't going to be George Weasley for much longer.

I dove lower and turned down a less crowded hallway near. _I need a place to hide, I need a place to hide, I need a place to hide! _When I was close enough to the ground, I jumped off my broom and ran into the closest door I could find, hoping and praying that the room would be empty.

I was lying on my back, staring at the ceiling, when I heard footsteps approaching. I'd changed back to my normal self a few minutes ago but my I was still buzzing with the adrenaline and weirdness of what I'd just done.

The classroom I'd run into was, luckily, empty. It looked like no one had used it in quite a while. The desks were all stacked on top of each other and everything was covered in dust. There were a few empty cages hanging in one corner of the classroom and what looked like a wolf skeleton. I was curled up in the opposite corner, waiting for the room to stop spinning.

The footsteps stopped and I heard the door handle turn. I pulled my knees up to my chest, trying to make myself as small as possible, because there wasn't much else I could do. "Violet?" I heard a familiar voice ask.

"Fred?" I said, still a little out of it. Maybe it was a side effect of the potion or just the sheer shock of dung bombing Snape, but I was clearly hallucinating.

"There you are—took me long enough to find you," he said, climbing over a desk to sit in front of me. Then he grinned, "Way to go. Snape was running from the dungeon like a bat outta hell."

"W-what?" I asked, sitting up a little straighter. My head had stopped spinning but he was still there.

"You're in the Room of Requirement," Fred said. He began to explain how it worked, but I waved him off. I'd read enough books on Hogwarts to know all about the Room of Requirement. I tried to remember what I'd been thinking before I entered the room...

_I need a place to hide._

"How'd you find me?" I asked.

"Katie said she saw George run through a door that disappeared behind him. It didn't take long to figure it out," Fred said.

"N-no, I mean, how did you know what I was thinking when I came to the Room of Requirement? If you didn't know that, you could end up anywhere."

Fred leaned in closer until his cool blue eyes were level with mine. "I know you, Violet Rosebloom."

"You don't know anything about me!" I yelled, my voice echoing off the dusty walls. I scrambled to my feet and took a step away from him.

"That's not true, Violet," he said, also standing up. "I know that you stutter when you're nervous or confused, that you're an only child, and you hate peas."

I stared at him in disbelief. Sure, they were all simple things and anyone could've known them, but coming from Fred Weasley... this was screwed up. "H-how do you know that I hate peas?" I asked the first thing that came to mind, cursing myself for stuttering.

Fred cracked a smile. "You threw them at me back in third year after George and I gave you gum that turned your teeth blue."

I struggled to remember that day, out of all the other pranks the twins had pulled on me over the years. I remembered brushing my teeth for hours until my breath smelled permanently minty fresh—not that I'd opened my mouth to demonstrate.

"Maybe I just wanted to throw something at you," I said.

Fred was grinning by now and it finally came back to me—that was the grin that made me accept the gum in the first place. He looked so happy and so full of life that all of Hogwarts was vying for his attention.

"You told me," Fred answered. "You threw the peas and said _I hate peas!_ I think it was the first time you ever reacted. Freaked George out, that's for sure."

I didn't even bother wondering how or _why_ he remembered that day. All I could think about what trying to get away from Fred and, until that was possible, getting some answers.

"Wait a sec," I said before he could start reminiscing about the time he poured a bottle of butter beer over my head on our first Hogsmeade trip. "Why did you give me the Polyjuice Potion to turn into George?"

"Because I knew you were freaked out by Snape," he said. When I opened my mouth to protest, he cut me off, "But you wouldn't do anything looking like, well, yourself. Looking like George, you can pretty much do anything you want."

"Oh, I get it, you just wanted to get your brother in trouble," I rolled my eyes. _Boys._

Fred ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. "No, that's not it."

"Then why did you use his hair, huh?"

"It's not like I want to yank my own hair out," Fred said, his smile gone. Whatever I said, it was making him angry. And that was good—I knew how to deal with anger. "Plus, that would just be weird."

"Yeah, as if being George wasn't bad enough. Do you have any idea how many people can't tell you apart?" I asked, mostly rambling while I looked around, trying to find the door.

Fred froze. "You mean... you _can_ tell us apart?"

I spotted it on the other side of the room. If I pushed past him, I could run to the common room in a few minutes. "Obviously. You're Fred—it's not that hard to tell," I said, looking past him.

"How can you tell us apart?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes again. Being an identical twin, he must just be caught up on the subject. Then I thought about it for a second and realized that I couldn't come up with an answer. "You're just... you know, Fred. George... he feels different. He isn't you."

Fred took a step closer to me, and I backed up. We continued in an awkward little tango until my back hit the wall and I had nowhere to run. "My own mother can't tell us apart," Fred said.

"W-well," I began but didn't know what to say. I hooked my thumbs in the belt loops of George's pants, suddenly aware of how my small body was drowning under all of those big clothes. Even if I got to the door before Fred, I wouldn't be able to do much running without my pants falling down.

He raised his hand and brushed my face which was, I'm sure, bright red. I jerked away and said, "No, you can't do this. You're supposed to hate me—it's always been like that, since the first day of school. You can't just wake up one morning and decide that you l—"

I stopped myself mid-sentence. I still remembered what Livy said a week or so ago and I couldn't help but doubt my outright denial. Maybe, just _maybe_, Fred Weasley liked me.

His face turned red and he pulled back. "You're right," he said. "I'll see you around, Rosebloom."

"W-Weasley," I said, trying not to let my voice shake too much.

Or maybe not.

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**I like this way of catching up with you at the end of the chapter. So, question of the day: what would you guys do in Violet's scenario? Some guy-who is, to be honest, totally hot-is being a complete jerk to you, then one day he tells you he's madly in love with you (so not exactly Vi's case). Do you instantly forgive him for all the crap he's put you through? Do you flat out reject him, even though he might be the loooove of your liiiiife? **

**Let me know :3 -Erika  
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	9. Chapter 9

**Hey! How are you? How is your summer? Sorry it's been so long-I was visiting my grandparents, swimming all day, and weirdly enjoying summer. Summer is _not_ my thing. My favorite month is winter; I enjoy being cold, I love snow, rain and hail _and_ I like wearing sweaters. It's super hot in my town today but luckily the book store I work in has the air conditioning on constantly (I'm sorry planet earth!) and has its own climate.**

**I want to seriously thank anyone who reads this story (basically, if you're reading this now, THANK YOU 3) and give a HUGE HUG to anyone who's ever written a review. I love you guys. You're a big inspiration to me, and like my characters' personal therapists ;)**

**Harry Potter is (c) JK Rowling. I MISS IT! Search _Harry Potter _on . It made me so happy :D**

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I woke up early again the next morning. It was a Saturday and I'd successfully avoided telling Livy and Ginny the details of my time in the Room of Requirement, but I knew that Livy didn't totally believe my explanation. I'd told her that I crashed in an empty classroom and waited out the transformation back to my usual self.

That was all true. I just happened to leave out the fact that Fred was there.

The twins had more or less given up their early morning planning and I was alone in the common room. I liked having some extra time to work on my Charms essay, but I kind of missed having them around.

It was the weirdest thing—I'd spent five years doing my best to stay away from them and now that I finally had my way, if only for a few minutes, I wasn't happy. I had to admit; Fred and George were entertaining, fun and always determined to test the boundaries of _impossible._ Once you spent some time with them, ordinary life just wasn't exciting enough.

"Wh—? Oh, sorry, Violet. I didn't think anyone would be awake this early," I was jolted back to reality when a bleary eyed Harry Potter nearly sat on me.

"N-no problem, Harry. I bet you've got a lot on your mind," I put my parchment down and patted the couch next to me. He shot me a confused look then took a seat. I bet he hadn't had a lot of people being nice to him lately.

Harry's name was pulled from the Goblet of Fire along with the other three champions. A lot of people refused to even talk to him—they thought he found a way to get his name in the Goblet and didn't tell anyone. Even Fred and George were jealous.

"Why are you talking to me?" Harry asked. "I figured you'd think I put my name in, just like everyone else."

I almost snorted. Sure, it must be hard on Harry, but I was sure he hadn't thought about me at all. I doubted we'd ever spoken before today. I was always just _that girl Fred and George like picking on_. I think he even cheered them on a few times.

Everyone thinks that Harry Potter is some crazy phenomenon. It is pretty amazing that he survived the Dark Lord and fought him off at least annually since coming to Hogwarts—but he isn't perfect.

"To be honest, I don't really care about the Tri-Wizard Tournament," I said quietly.

"What?" he asked, eyes wide. "It's the craziest thing to happen at Hogwarts in thirty years!"

"You mean, besides regular appearances by He Who Must Not Be Named?"

His expression darkened and I immediately felt horrible for even mentioning it. We settled into an awkward silence for a few minutes. I swallowed, knowing I couldn't just wait for him to say something. Being a different person this year wasn't just about getting revenge on the twins. If that was all I wanted, I wasn't any better than they were.

"I was pretty mad when they cancelled quiddich for the year," I said finally.

"Yeah?" he asked, looking grateful for the change of subject. "Me too, I can't wait to get flying again."

There was a little spark in his eye that made me suspect something more was going on, but I didn't ask. "You're a great seeker," I said.

"Thanks," Harry smiled. "Do you play?"

"A little—chaser, mostly. I'm not nearly as good as anyone on the team, though."

"You should try out next year," Harry said. Quiddich gave us something to talk about for twenty minutes or so before we settled back into silence, only this time it wasn't so awkward. Even if Harry was constantly saving the world, he was also an okay guy.

* * *

"A dragon—how can they do that? A _dragon!_" I had been freaking out ever since we got back from watching the first task in the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

Ginny, who was clearly enjoying seeing me totally spazzing, said, "Charlie works with them all the time. Maybe you should go join him in Romania, Violet. Since you're clearly so calm and collected when it comes to dealing with magical creatures."

"So that's your brother Charlie?" Livy asked, nodding at the muscular red haired man helping to herd one of the massive dragons into a large cage. Luckily we were a safe distance away. "You Weasleys must have some great genes."

"Thanks for noticing," George Weasley fell into step between Livy and I. She turned bright red when she saw him but managed a cool, "No problem."

I immediately tensed at the sight of him, but I couldn't see Fred anywhere. George leaned closer to me and muttered, "He's in the common room." Before I could make up some lie about not knowing what he was talking about, George asked in a louder voice, "So, how'd you enjoy your time being me?"

My face must've been about as red as the Gryffindor scarf wrapped around my neck. "It was... memorable," I said.

He burst out laughing and Livy said, "By the way, the girls' uniform really works for you, if you ever want to try cross dressing."

"We have pictures!" Ginny added gleefully and his expression soured.

"When Fred suggested it, I should've known you'd do something like that," he said, shaking his head. "But good job, dung-bombing Snape. Man, the way he yelled at me after that—I got a month's worth of detentions but it was worth it just to see his face go that red."

So it had been Fred's idea, I noted. I could just imagine him and George, sitting in the common room, saying, "How should we make Rosebloom's life miserable today?" If Fred was to be believed, he'd done it to _help _me. In a way, it had been kind of sweet... but maybe that was just his twisted way of convincing himself that pranking people was okay.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't even think about what he'd do to you," I said. It was true, I had been so caught up in the moment that I hadn't thought about the kind of trouble George would get in. A year ago, I would've rejoiced at the idea of making him get a detention, but now I wasn't so sure.

He shrugged, "It's nothing. If you hadn't distracted him he would've noticed I haven't handed in my Potions paper due last week."

"I can help you with that," I offered before really thinking it through. "I-if you want."

His eyes widened for a moment and he asked, "Are you serious?"

"W-what?" I stammered. Sure, my main goal this year had been to get back at Fred and George but I felt bad for making George get a detention. "You shouldn't have a detention because of me, that's not fair. I can help you with your paper and we'll call it even."

By now Ginny and Livy had stopped walking and were gaping at me. "Do you realize what you're saying, Vi?" Livy asked, stage-whispering just quietly enough that _everyone _could hear her. "You're offering to _help_ George Weasley."

"I know," I shrugged off the hand she had put on my shoulder. "But I don't want to be mean."

"Um, am I missing something?" George looked genuinely confused. While I was trying to think of a way to say _Livy's just mad because you've been pranking me for years and you're basically a jerk, but now I want to help you_ in not quite so many words, Ginny answered him.

"Violet's a great witch, so you'd better accept her help. I have a feeling she won't be offering again," she said, shooting Livy a look. I knew what she meant—_I have a feeling she won't be offering again if _we _have anything to say about it._ Ginny and Livy had both been so excited when I started showing some back bone this year and now I was sacrificing my 'mission' just to play nice with the enemy?

Wow, I'd seen way too many movies.

George looked from Ginny to me, still a little puzzled. I was practically holding my breath, wondering if I should've just kept my mouth shut. Then he nodded.

We started walking again and Livy and Ginny started an easy conversation about the upcoming Yule Ball. A few teachers had hinted at it but no one seemed to have as much information as Livy. She admitted that she'd been discussing it with a Durmstrang boy, Fane, who spilled all the details and asked her out.

"Lucky!" Ginny exclaimed. "Those Durmstrang guys are gorgeous. I'll be lucky if I get to go at all."

"Oh please, Ginny. We all know you don't want to go with one of them," Livy said, winking and laughing while George made gagging noises.

"Can we please not discuss my little sister's dating potential?" George asked, and then muttered, "I'll hex the smarmy ass who tries to ask you out—I don't care if it is Harry."

"What about you, Violet?" Ginny asked, totally ignoring George. Her face was bright red and she was obviously trying to change the subject so I decided to humour her before she threw George and Livy into the lake.

"I have to admit, some of the Durmstrang guys are pretty cute," I said. They were nice to look at, but as far as I could tell, they were all pretty shallow. Hanging out with the Slytherins and ogling the Beauxbatons girls—all signs pointed to _bad date_. "But I don't know if I'll go at all."

"What? Come on, Vi!" Livy said, looking incredulous. "How could you pass this us?"

"She's got a point," George said. I was surprised that the sound of his voice didn't alarm me at all. His presence wasn't as intimidating as I'd always thought. It was just... comfortable. "It's going to be the best party of the year."

"More like the only party of the year," Livy muttered.

"Oh contraire," George said, grinning. "Just wait till you get to the common room—we're throwing a Harry a little victory bash."

"Victory? Doesn't he have two more tasks?"

"Yeah, but facing a dragon is crazy enough to warrant a little celebration," he said. At the word _dragon_ I couldn't help but glance back at the huge reptiles that looked so small from that far away. I shivered a little, not just from the autumn wind, and when I turned back George caught my eye.

I felt like he was gauging my reaction—but to what? I pushed the thought out of my head and followed Livy and Ginny through the doors and into the familiar warmth of the castle.

* * *

The twins sure knew how to throw a party.

They had a table covered with every kind of sweet imaginable, all courtesy of Honeydukes although I had no idea how, considering there hadn't been a Hogsmeade visit yet. Everyone was toasting with butter beer and clapping Harry on the back whenever they saw him. There was even red and gold confetti charmed to follow Harry around and fly through the air whenever anyone said the word dragon.

Despite my protests, Livy had dragged me into the common room. We were standing in a corner, drinking butter beer and talking about what we would do if we ever faced a dragon.

"I'd transform myself into a dragon, too," Livy said, her speech a little slurred after three butter beers. I was pretty sure we should head back to our dormitory soon, but she was determined to stay. "But I'd have to be bigger than it so the other dragons would be like, _whoa, man, don't mess with her_."

"Good plan," I murmured, taking a sip from my half empty bottle. I hadn't even finished my first bottle of butter beer and already the room was starting to spin a little.

Maybe it was the warmth and noise of so many people squeezed into the common room, or the hazy music that had no determinable source, but I just wanted to curl up and go to sleep.

"What would you do?" Livy asked. It took me a moment to realize that she wasn't talking to me, but tapping the shoulder of someone next to her. They turned around slowly and—crap. Just like that, my night went from okay to rock bottom and I snapped back to focus.

Fred Weasley was looking at Livy with an amused expression. "What do you mean?" he asked, holding up a hand to the people he'd been talking to. I spotted Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell in the group. Both quiddich players, both totally stunning. I felt a pang of jealousy and I wasn't quite sure why.

"What would you do," Livy paused—for dramatic effect, I guess, but the point was lost when she staggered a little and had to put an arm on both our shoulders for support. "If you had to face a dragon."

"Well, that's easy," Fred said, easily supporting Livy's weight. I didn't catch any sarcasm or annoyance in his voice, which was surprising. I'd probably be annoyed if some random girl started leaning on me, asking about dragons. I'd probably be annoyed with her fully capable friend for not stopping her.

"Run like hell," he finished and Livy burst out laughing just a little louder than necessary. I cracked a smile, but it didn't last long. She staggered forward again, putting more weight on Fred who was looking a little uncomfortable.

"Do you think you can get her up to your room?" Fred asked, looking at me for the first time.

Livy started to protest but cut herself off halfway through whatever she was trying to say. Her breathing got slower and her head flopped to the side. "I can't believe it—she's asleep!" I said, frustrated.

"What did she drink?" Fred asked, adjusting his grip on Livy.

"Just butter beer—okay, a lot of butter beer, but nothing bad," I said.

Suddenly Fred looked very guilty. "You didn't..." I hissed. "You spiked the butter beer?"

"Just a few bottles," he said, rolling his eyes like it was no big deal.

"You... You _jerk!_" I exclaimed loud enough to make Angelina, Katie, and a few other people standing nearby turn around.

"Calm down, Violet," he said quietly.

"Calm down—_calm down?_" I repeated, a little softer. "You got my best friend drunk."

"I didn't mean to—look, can you help me?" he said, attempting to lift Livy's limp body into his arms, fireman style.

"Help you?" I said, incapable of thinking up anything to say other than just repeating what he said. I took one look at Livy's unconscious body, though, and decided that I had better help, if only for her sake.

Fred carried her as far as the base of the stairs, and then stopped. "What?" I asked even though I knew what was going on. I was just too tired to put one and one together.

"I can't go up there," Fred said, sounding irritated. He shifted Livy in his arms like a heavy box or something. "The stairs turn into a slide and, as much fun as that sounds, I think I'll have to pass."

I looked from Fred to the party still going on just behind him. Then it dawned on me. He left his friends, he left his party and celebrations, just to help some girl who was acting pretty ungrateful for all he'd done (even if he caused the problem in the first place, but that I could overlook, for now).

"Thank you," I said quietly, leaning Livy against my shoulder.

He looked totally taken aback. "What?"

"Thanks," I repeated a bit louder. I was tired and still a little dizzy—not exactly the time I wanted to be having this conversation.

He looked right at me, but he didn't meet my eye. Feeling Fred's gaze on me, I instinctively turned away. I imagined, for a second, that Fred would put a hand out to stop me—that he would say something sweet or caring that would make all of the things he'd done to me over the years fade away. And in that second, I was sure that I would let him.

But he didn't. He just watched me, and eventually I turned and pulled Olivia up the stairs to our dormitory. I set her down on her bed and considered going back down to the party. Ginny had been deep in conversation with Neville Longbottom last time I'd seen her, and I thought I should go see if she needed rescuing, but once I sank down onto my mattress I couldn't get up again.

I was mad. I was mad at Fred for doing exactly what I'd asked him to do.

I fell asleep, fully clothed, exhausted with the realization that I _didn't _want Fred Weasley to leave me alone.

* * *

"And that's why it takes two months to make the Draught of Eternal Beauty," I finished, closing George's Potions textbook and sighing. "You'd have to be totally self-absorbed to even try that."

"Tell me about it," George muttered, dipping his quill in an ink bottle. "Now, would you mind repeating that a bit more slowly—or just save me the trouble and copy it down yourself."

I hit him lightly with the textbook. Ever since I offered to help George with his Potions essay, I'd been dreading today. The afternoon had gone pretty well, though. George and I were joking around, and, as weird as that felt, it wasn't totally awkward.

I hadn't seen Fred since the previous night—at Harry's party, after Livy passed out. I woke up this morning with a splitting headache, but other than that and a few red-and-gold streamers hanging limply in the common room, it was as if nothing had happened.

I flipped through George's textbook for a moment, and then something dawned on me. "You don't need my help, do you?"

He looked up from his essay and met my eyes. "Would I help if I said I appreciate it?"

"I basically forced myself on you," I admitted. "I'm sorry."

He looked surprised. It took me a second to realize he wasn't looking at me anymore, but just over my shoulder. I turned around slowly, dreading to see who it was. Sure enough, Fred Weasley was staring back at me. Seeing his face was like a serial killer that just kept popping up in a slasher film—or the persistent love interest in a romantic comedy, you take your pick.

I turned back to George, confused by the surprised look on his twin's face. It was like staring at a mirror image of Fred, minus the little differences that seemed totally obvious—to me, at least.

George wasn't any help, though. His face had slipped into the clever smirk that I thought must've been his go-to expression. "You can force yourself on my any time, Rosebloom."

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**So, how was that? The second half of the chapter _kind of_ made me want to *face palm* but oh well... Ah, yes, and I need your help! (Yes, YOU! Oh my gosh, I need to stop using capital letters.) I've decided that I need to make the twins funnier. In the actual Harry Potter books, they're so clever and hilarious all the time-but I have a really hard time writing jokes! **

**This chapter: tell me your favorite joke! If it makes me laugh-out-loud it'll DEFINITELY be in the next chapter. Sorry, that makes me sound really superior, like, _If it makes _me_ laugh then it's good_. I don't meant to be like that! But seriously, if I laugh, you're even more awesome than you already are :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**It's a short chapter, I know, I'm sorry! I seriously couldn't think of anything, which is also why it's taken me so long. School started yesterday and I am so freaking tired. Okay, enough excuses, let's move on to... Something else! Sirius Black is seriously (couldn't resist) becoming one of my favorite Harry Potter characters. I might start a Marauders fanfic if I can ever finish this one :)  
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***I didn't use any of the jokes in this chapter, just because I wasn't feeling very funny. Instead, I made a Jane Austen reference. Wow. So, how was your first day of school?**

**Harry Potter is (c) JK Rowling, of course**

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"You—are—a—jerk!" I said, prodding George's arm with my wand at every word. I was kind of hoping that I would _accidentally_ cast a hideously disfiguring hex on him. I was also not-so-accidentally planning how to get back at him.

"What?" he asked through a mouthful of sandwiches. His ability to eat never ceased to amaze me. "I was telling the truth. Really, anytime you want to force yourself on me, you go right ahead. Whether it's helping me with Potions, or, _you know_."

He smirked and I couldn't help it—I dipped my spoon in my bowl of soup and flicked it at him. The soup landed on his forehead and started sliding down his face.

"What was that for?" he asked, wiping the soup with a napkin and making a face.

"What _was_ that for?" Ginny echoed, sliding into the seat opposite us.

"G-Ginny," I stammered. After years of avoiding the twins, being caught hanging out with George still felt like, well, being caught. "George is being impossible."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," she said, pouring a glass of pumpkin juice. I still wouldn't drink it—not after what happened last time.

"My own sister," George heaved a dramatic sigh, the turned back to me and continued, "And I am not being _impossible._ Who even says that anymore? You sound like something out of a Jane Austen book."

I scoffed. "Yeah, and _you've_ read Jane Austen."

"I've heard of it," George admitted. "Dad's obsessed with muggle stuff."

"My parents are muggles," for the first time, I felt okay saying that.

"What's going on with you guys?" Ginny asked. "How was the Potions homework?"

"It was fine," I said quickly. That was the _last _time I'd ever help George with his homework.

"Violet's just mad because I embarrassed her in front of Fred," George said, covering up a laugh.

"You didn't embarrass me—you made it sound like I was, I don't know, trying to snog you," I crossed my arms over my chest and shot him my most menacing glare. From the looks on Ginny and George's faces, it didn't have the desired effect.

"Violet, please—not in front of Ginny," George mock-scolded, grinning.

"Ugh!" I cried, standing up. I turned to Ginny for some sort of support, but she was too busy laughing at me.

"Don't you think you're over reacting, Violet?" she asked once she managed to control her giggles. "You don't even _like_ Fred."

I didn't know what to say to that. Sure, that was how I had felt for the past five years—but now, almost halfway through my sixth year at Hogwarts, I wasn't so sure. "Yeah, you're right," I mumbled, hating myself for not having more backbone.

I sank back into my seat and finished my soup while Ginny and George cracked jokes about everything from Snape's lack of a hairstyle to the _ridiculous _(their words, not mine) idea of Fred and me going out.

"If you and Fred got married, we'd be sisters!" Ginny exclaimed as we got up to leave.

"Wow, you just figured that out?" George asked.

"Shut up," Ginny mumbled as she led us out of the castle and onto the chilly grounds. The grass was rigid with frost and the air smelled like snow waiting to fall.

With all of the extra students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang spending time in the castle, Hogwarts was starting to feel a little stuffy. Even though it was getting colder, walking around the grounds was definitely better than hanging around the common room—especially with the possibility of running into Fred.

We passed the Herbology green houses and I said, "Hey, Ginny, I saw you and Neville were talking a lot last night."

She flushed bright red and I was more than happy to have something to talk about other than my possible relationships. "Yeah," she muttered. "He, uh, he kind of asked me to the Yule Ball..."

"What?" George yelled before he burst out laughing. Even I couldn't help giggling a little. Neville Longbottom was a really nice boy, but he seemed so utterly clueless as far as girls—to be honest, as far as _most things_—went.

"Still going to hex him?" I asked once we'd both finished laughing.

George paused for a moment, like he was considering it. "No," he said finally. "It'd be too much like kicking a puppy."

"He isn't that bad," Ginny snapped.

"No, of course not—hey, I like puppies," George laughed.

"I'm in third year, so I was lucky to get asked at all. Now if you'll excuse me, I was planning on visiting Hagrid—maybe _he'll_ have something nice to say!" Ginny stomped off in the direction of Hagrid's hut, leaving George and I standing by the green houses.

"Do you think she's upset with us?" I asked, feeling like I should follow Ginny and apologize.

"I can't see why," George grinned and linked arms with me.

"Are you serious?" I asked, staring at our interlocked arms. "I feel like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz."

"Another muggle reference?"

"Yes, sorry."

George and I walked towards the empty quiddich pitch in silence. It was cold enough to see your breath in the air, and most students chose to spend their Sunday afternoon indoors, so we had the grounds pretty much to ourselves.

"You, um," I began, not sure what to say. Even if George didn't look exactly the same as Fred, he was still pretty cute, and he was standing _very_ close to me. "You said your dad likes muggles?" I finished lamely. I tried to remind myself that I didn't like George in a romantic sense, but really any attention from the twins still sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

"Yeah," George said, letting go of my arm to lie down on the frozen grass. "We're actually a pureblood family, if you care about that."

He looked up at me and I couldn't help but feel like he was gauging my reaction. I knelt down beside him, not totally willing to lie down because I was pretty much convinced that I'd freeze to the ground. "No, I don't care about that at all. It's not where you come from that counts, right?"

I was looking for some kind of validation in his blue eyes. All my time at Hogwarts, I felt like I had to prove myself because my parents were muggles. If George could be a pureblood and act however he wanted, then maybe it didn't matter where I came from, either.

Oh yeah, I was getting all psychological, but I didn't care. It was _cold_.

George sat up so his face was level with mine. I wasn't sure what I expected him to say, but it certainly wasn't what came next. "Violet, I'm asking Angelina to the Yule Ball."

"O-oh, awesome," I said, unsure why he was telling me. I didn't know if or when we had crossed the line into friendship, and I guess that was the kind of thing you told your friends—no, I knew it was. Just the other day Livy told me Fane had asked her to the ball. It was only weird because it was coming from him.

I smiled and tried to be an encouraging friend—I just wasn't sure why George looked so anxious. "I'm sure she'll say yes," I said. "She's crazy about you."

When he didn't say anything, I muttered under my breath, "She's got good taste."

"What?" George asked, frowning.

"_She's got good taste_," I repeated. "That's supposed to be your line, right?"

"I don't like you, Violet," he said hurriedly.

"Um, okay?" I said. Just when George and I had really been getting along (until one of us did something stupid, of course), he was telling me that he didn't like me at all? If I was going to be all psychological, I had to admit, that didn't sound like the basis of a good friendship.

"I mean, I don't like you _in that way_. I don't want to snog you, or hold your hand, or any of that. Do you understand?"

"Oh, God, George. I don't like you like that either—is that what you thought? No. _No._ I definitely, one hundred percent do _not_ like you." I finished, feeling rather flustered. Well, _that_ explained why he'd been acting so weird.

For a moment, he looked stunned and I was afraid I'd gone too far. Then he cracked a now-familiar grin and said, "You've got good taste."

* * *

Professor McGonagall pulled us onto the makeshift dance floor in pairs, showed us the correct places to put our hands, and left us to stumble awkwardly around in a circle. At our first 'dance lesson', it was only Gryffindors and, to be honest, that was more than enough embarrassment. But the other teachers had agreed to put all of the houses together in the Great Hall, tables and chairs nowhere to be seen, and turn on the music.

It sounded like some kind medieval torture—especially when I was paired with a Slytherin.

I glared daggers at him when he—Matthew? Marcus? Martin? I couldn't remember and he didn't look like much of a sharer—slipped his hand a little lower down my back than necessary, and stomped on his foot whenever I caught him checking me out.

"You're totally psycho, Mudblood," he said, wincing.

"S-sorry," I replied, cursing myself for faltering when I'd meant to sound strong and angry.

While he bent down to check if his foot was swelling—which made doing the waltz even more difficult—I glanced around the hall. Livy was at the opposite end, laughing and twirling with a handsome Hufflepuff. George and Angelina had somehow gotten each other as partners and were talking and joking a bit closer to me, but still well out of earshot. I didn't even bother to look for Fred.

That was it, if I wanted this Slytherin to stop walking all over me (although, I guess you could say I was the one walking on him), I'd have to take care of it myself.

"I'm sorry for stepping on your foot," I said sincerely. "Look, I'm not a big fan of this waltzing lesson, either. It's more like torture, right?"

He looked at me like he was surprised I was talking to him at all. I couldn't blame him—it was the most I'd said to him the whole half hour we'd been dancing. "Why are you even talking to me?" he asked, his voice full of venom. So much for trying to be nice.

"I have no idea," I said honestly. I didn't want to be mean to him, but I didn't want to stand here, swaying pathetically back-and-forth, pretending that his Mudblood comments didn't sting. "What's your name?"

He stared at me, like he was trying to tell if I was joking or not, and said, "Marcus Dragoni. You heard that name before?"

When I shook my head no, he scoffed. "I'm not surprised, Mudblood. But we're pretty famous among wizards," he said, like I didn't count. "My family can buy and sell people like you. Believe me, after today you'll be lucky if you get a glimpse of my shadow."

"Stupefy!"

"Wh—?" a jet of red light exploded from my wand and hit Marcus square in the chest. It sent him flying backwards through a crowd of students. He skidded to the ground at the other end of the Great Hall.

The room went silent. I felt at least a hundred pairs of eyes looking from me to Marcus, mostly in disbelief, I'm sure. I didn't hang around to analyze the situation.

I ran.

* * *

"Miss Rosebloom, I'm sure you understand the severity of the situation. Assaulting a fellow student is a serious offence."

"Yes, Professor McGonagall." I was sitting across from Professor McGonagall, with her large desk between us. I was glad it was there, because she looked angry enough to lunge at me.

"I would expect this from some students, sure, but never from you." She frowned at me and I felt very, very small.

"I know, Professor. I'm sorry."

"I'll expect you tomorrow at seven o'clock sharp for your first detention," Professor McGonagall glanced down at her desk, like she was checking for an opening on her calendar. McGonagall was strict but fair, and I knew I deserved whatever punishment I got.

But I didn't regret it for a second.

* * *

**In honor (or something like that) of the beginning of a new school year, I have a new question: What would you do on your first day of Hogwarts? Besides make out with the Weasley twins, ha-ha. Have a great day!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello, hello. As you can probably tell from how freakishly long it took me to upload this, I had a lot of trouble writing this chapter. It's not like anything big happens (sorry for the spoiler :P), I just couldn't stay focused! I'm so sorry for the delay, and I hope it isn't too dull, or too much filler (_necessary_ filler, okay?). Sorry sorry sorry!**

**HP is (c) JKR**

**Have an awesome day!**

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* * *

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I ran up the stairs two at a time, and when I reached the Owlery door, panting and flushed, I paused. I glanced over my shoulder wearily. The last time I tried to send a letter by owl, Poppy followed me. She had a small, tawny owl trapped between her paws when I found her, and I had to chase her around the room for half an hour.

By the time I got to the common room that day, I was scratched so badly that Livy swore she'd murder the Weasley twins—until I told her what had really happened. Then she just laughed and brought me to the Hospital Wing.

I opened the door a crack and slid through the opening as stealthily as I could. I quickly closed the door behind me and leaned back against it, as if Poppy could knock it down with her sheer rage.

The Owlery was a small room at the top of a high tower. Feathers and—ugh—owl droppings covered most of the floor, and a breeze from the empty windows made me hug myself for warmth.

I took a few steps forward and heard a snap. I whirled around, sure there was someone else in the room. When I looked down, though, I saw a mouse skeleton crushed under my shoe.

It was nice to have some time to myself. Ever since dance lessons with the Slytherin-jerk (as Livy called him—sometimes loudly in his presence), everyone had been talking about the Yule Ball non-stop. The girls in our dormitory wouldn't shut up about who asked who, and who still needed a date—it was fun to debate which Durmstrang boy was the cutest (this usually came down to Victor Krum and Fane, but only because Livy was completely in love with him), but after a while it got old. Especially since I had no idea if I was even going.

Professor McGonagall gave me two weeks of detention for attacking Dragoni. I spent most of the time scrubbing desks, alphabetizing books, and changing deformed half-rat-half-mugs back into animals for the second years to practice on. It wouldn't have been too bad, if I didn't have to spend my hour-long-detention with anyone else McGonagall busted that day—and there were a lot students, from every house, that got in trouble with her.

I had detention every evening at seven o'clock—and next week was the night of the Yule Ball. Ball or not, though, I wasn't sure McGonagall would let me skip detention.

A loud flapping of wings brought me back to reality. A small girl wearing a Hufflepuff scarf entered the Owlery and a large barn owl swooped down to land beside her. I smiled at her and tried my best to summon one of the school owls—mostly by waving my arms and whistling. The girl giggled, and I blushed bright red when a tiny, frail looking owl landed on the window sill near me.

Some days I wished I had an owl of my own, rather than Poppy. But there was no getting rid of her, and I was sure my parents, who were already a bit uneasy about getting their post from an owl, would freak out if I sent my next letter via flying cat.

I pulled a letter out of my pocket and tied it to the owl's leg. It nipped half heartedly at my finger, and then left the tower in a lopsided flight.

"Are you going to the ball?" the Hufflepuff girl asked suddenly.

"I-I don't know," I said, turning to the door. I had been just about to leave when she started talking, but she looked so genuinely curious that I stopped to talk. "Are you?"

"Can't," she said. "I'm only a second year."

"Oh," I said lamely. "That's too bad."

She nodded, scribbled a few lines on a piece of parchment, and sent her owl off through the window. "Who would you want to go with, you know, if you could?"

_Are you serious?_ I had been stressing over this for a few weeks, and the detention had almost come as a blessing. I wasn't normally boy-crazy, but I didn't really want to go alone. "Um, I don't know."

The girl snorted, like she could hear my thoughts. "Fine then, who would you want to go with?" I asked, feeling my face flush defensively.

She shrugged, like it was no big deal. I looked at her a little closer—she was wearing a thick coat, jeans, and a Hufflepuff scarf—at least one of us had dressed for the cold of the tower. She had dark hair and dark, shiny eyes—she looked really pretty. I bet, if she was old enough, she would have no problem getting the date of her dreams.

"Cedric Diggory is pretty cute," she said, not looking embarrassed at all.

I almost laughed, just because she was so confident. Cedric was my partner in Charms a few years ago, and, as far as I can remember, I nearly burnt one of his eyebrows off. Ah, good times. She was right, though, he was cute, and I wasn't at all surprised when he got picked as the Hogwarts champion—or, at least, the first champion.

"That's true," I said, taking a few steps toward the door. The detentions meant I had way less time to do my homework—and I had a _lot_ of homework. I didn't know how Fred and George did it.

She must've seen me edging away, because her face fell slightly. "See you later," she said with a sad smile that made me feel all kinds of guilty.

"I-I can stay and hang out, if you want," I said, apprehensively.

"Thanks," she says, her voice suddenly sounding much more cheerful. "But I have to go. It was nice talking to you!"

She slips out the door without another word, leaving me alone, with only the hooting of a few owls to break the silence. I have to say, I'm a little confused. I guess that's what makes her a Hufflepuff, though—the ability to make any situation positive.

* * *

I hurried back to the common room to start my homework (because I really didn't have anything better to do on a Saturday morning—if you don't believe me, just ask Snape who gave our class a three thousand word essay on proper slicing procedures after Neville Longbottom added _whole_ mandrake leaf to his potion, and it exploded right in Snape's face. That's what I've heard, anyway—Ginny will be lucky if her date lives to see the Yule Ball).

"Dragon dung," I said to the Fat Lady. I'd like to know who comes up with the new passwords.

"Wait a moment, dear," she said and put a finger to her lips, shushing me.

"What?" I asked. I could hear muffled voices coming through the other side of the portrait hole.

"Be _quiet_," she said, narrowing her eyes.

"I'm sorry, but I really need to do my homework—" I began in a whisper. From the look on her face, I was pretty sure she wanted to jump out of her painting and put a hand over my mouth. I sighed and took a few steps back, leaning against a wall.

The Fat Lady furrowed her brows in concentration, not paying me any attention. I wondered if that was what the portraits did all day—watched the students to keep them entertained. It seemed like an okay—if creepy—way to spend their time. When you live in a painting, what else are you supposed to do for fun?

"Hey," Livy came walking down the hall towards me, grinning from ear to ear. "What's up, Vi? I didn't see you earlier."

"I went to send an owl," I explained. "What about you? What's got you so happy?"

"Oh, nothing," she said in a sing-song voice. "Just a little matter of finding the all time perfect dress for the Yule Ball—and spending some quality alone time with a certain black-haired boy…"

She wiggled her eyebrows up and down about fifty times, apparently waiting for me to take a hint. "Doesn't Fane have brown hair?" I asked after a moment.

"Oh, um, right," Livy said, her face as red as the sweater she was wearing. "Why are you out here, anyways?"

I couldn't tell if she was curious, or just wanted to change the subject. "I have no idea," I answered truthfully. The whole morning—first my trip to the spooky Owlery and then the run in with the Hufflepuff girl—had left me feeling a little off, and the Fat Lady seriously wasn't helping. "She won't let me in."

Livy glanced at the Fat Lady before shooting me a confused look. "And you're letting yourself get bossed around… by a painting?"

"Well…" I began, not really sure how I was planning on finishing that sentence. I wasn't going to _force_ the Fat Lady to let me into the common room—but apparently Livy was.

"Dragon dung," she said, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Sorry, sweetheart, just give me a second," she said dismissively.

"Oh no you don't," Livy said. "Let us in—I gave you the password. Now let us in."

The Fat Lady heaved a dramatic sigh. "You won't even wait a minute?"

"Vi, do I smell something burning?" Livy said, her eyes flashing.

The Fat Lady snorted and the portrait hole swung open. "You wouldn't really burn her painting, would you?" I asked as I followed her through the portrait hole.

"What? No—why would you say that?" she said with a wink. Livy and I giggled until we climbed into the common room and saw something more than a little weird—Ginny, standing at one end of the common room, holding a bottle of ink in the air and glaring at Fred and George, at the other end of the common room, who were glaring right back.

"I can't _believe_ you sabotaged Neville's potion!" Ginny screamed, apparently not noticing we had just walked in one their fight.

"Sabotage?" one of the twins—George—repeated, eyebrows raised. "We didn't do anything."

"It isn't our fault your _date_ can't follow simple instructions," Fred glared.

"Oh, don't act like this is my fault," Ginny said, eyes narrowed. "And he's only my date because no one else even looks at me!"

"You mean Harry doesn't look at you," Fred blurted out, and, by the look on his face, he wished he hadn't.

"Shut up!" Ginny yelled, throwing the ink bottle across the room. The girl could easily make the quiddich team with an arm like that—George narrowly dodge the bottle that smashed against a fireplace on the opposite wall, splattering both of them with ink.

Ginny turned to leave and saw us, standing in front of the portrait hole, frozen in place. She glanced back at the twins, then stormed past us. Livy looked at me like she didn't know whether to stay and find out what was going on, or comfort Ginny. A few seconds later, she ran back out the portrait hole.

"Um…" I began, looking around. The common room was empty, but for the twins and I. Anyone who was there probably left after Ginny started screaming.

George wasn't meeting my gaze and Fred was busy cleaning ink of his robes. Finally I asked, "How's your day going?"

George snorted, then said, "Not bad, thanks."

"So, Ginny thinks you made Neville's potion explode?" I asked. When Fred nodded, I continued, "Well, did you?"

"No," they said in unison.

"Not that we haven't considered it," Fred began. "With other people, I mean. Not with Neville—how can you prank that kid? It'd be like punching a kitten."

"More like kicking a puppy, I thought," George put in.

"That's true, he does have a bit of a puppy-dog thing going on," Fred agreed.

"Come to think of it, Neville is kind of cute," George said with a dreamy look on his face.

"Oh my gosh, d'you think he'll ask me to the Ball?" Fred asked in a girlish voice.

"Sorry, mate, he's already going with our _thirteen-year-old sister_."

"It's just one dance—it's not like Ginny's going to marry him," I rolled my eyes, and then realized something. "Her name would be _Ginny Longbottom_."

Fred and George's faces fall into matching expressions of dread. Then the three of us burst out laughing.

I haven't seen this version of the twins before—protective older brother. I think it's going to take some getting used to.

"You're right," Fred said with a thoughtful expression on his face, when we were done snickering.

"I'm sorry, can you repeat that?" I asked with a nervous laugh. He wasn't explaining himself, and it was a little weird. I shot George a questioning look, but he wasn't paying me much attention.

Fred made a face and mumbled, "You're right." I smiled, feeling just a little victorious. Then he added, "It is just one dance."

With that he walked past George, clapping his brother on the shoulder as he went, and up the stairs to the boys' dormitories. I looked to George for an explanation, but he just shrugged. And I think my heart might have skipped a beat or two.

* * *

It took me ten minutes to run up the stairs to my dormitory, grab my Potions essay, and, after a quick check in the mirror, dab on some mascara. I know I could use magic, but the last time I did, my eyelashes grew to about a foot long.

I stopped just before the door of my dormitory and forced myself to calm down. Of course Fred didn't mean he was going to ask me to the Yule Ball—he was just repeating what I said, or something. I was having trouble thinking straight, and that's never a good sign. I hadn't even told Livy or Ginny that I liked Fred (wait—did I just think that? _Like?_), and now I was all giddy, expecting him to ask me out?

I slowed my pace, taking the stairs one at a time instead of sliding down the banister, like I wanted to. My heart thudded loudly with each step, and I could tell my face was bright red.

When I made it to the common room, though, it was bustling with people. The spilled ink and broken glass were magically cleaned, and all signs of Ginny's fight with the twins were gone—including Fred and George. I scanned the room, looking for a flash of red hair, and I saw something, in the far corner.

I raised my eyebrows and walked over, trying to look casual. "I thought you'd given up plotting in the common room," I said as I got closer.

"What?" asked an unfamiliar voice. The red haired boy turned around—and it wasn't Fred _or_ George. Instead, Ron Weasley was staring at me like I'd just caught him trying to sneak into the girls' dormitories.

"I-I'm sorry," I stammered, my face going as red as his. "I thought you were someone else."

"You're Violet, aren't you?" he asked. I got this dramatic vision of him saying something like, _Fred talks about you all the time_. In fact, my heart raced at the very thought, and I instantly felt a mixture of confusion and regret settle in my stomach.

When I nodded, though, he continued, "You're the one who screwed up Fred and George's aging potion! I owe you for that—I think it's the first time they've ever gotten a taste of their own medicine."

"I bet it's the first time they've had beards," I muttered.

Ron didn't say anything, which made me wonder if the twins have ever sprouted moustaches, or something. Too weird.

A brown haired girl—that must be Hermione Granger—smiles at me, then smacks Ron's shoulder. He says goodbye, and turns grudgingly back to his homework.

* * *

After a long day of Potions homework, I was shovelling mashed potatoes and gravy into my mouth so fast I nearly choked. "Have you breathed, recently?" Livy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Who needs oxygen?" I replied in a muffled voice, my mouth full of food.

"Ew," Livy said, covering her eyes. "No one wants to see that."

I swallowed and grinned, "Way to bolster my self-esteem."

"Speaking of which…" Livy nodded behind me. I turned around and saw Ginny walking determinedly towards us. The familiar glare on her face made me turn back to Livy.

"How is that a _speaking of which?_ I don't understand how that could possibly be a _speaking of which?_" I asked hurriedly.

Ginny was my good friend, but that didn't mean that I couldn't be a little afraid of her. I didn't know why she looked so mad, but I recognized that glare. She looked like she wanted to hex someone—I just hoped it wasn't me.

"Hey, Ginny," Livy said, moving over and making room for Ginny at the table.

Ginny didn't sit down, though. She stood, her arms folded over her chest, glaring at me. "Violet, we need to talk."

I'd seen enough muggle movies to know that that was _not_ a good thing.

* * *

**Hope it wasn't too bad! I'll try to be faster in future. But... it's almost November. Who else is doing NaNoWriMo this year? ( for more info!) If you want to add me as a writing buddy, my username is love-Spencer (it's a long, boring story...). I'd love to be writing buddies, and try to actually write 50k this year. Yup, that would be great.**

**Sorry sorry sorry. Have an awesome day!  
**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey guys. Let me start this off with a rousing chorus of I'M SORRY! I really meant to get this to you earlier, but, well, a bunch of life happened. I wrote a novel, played trumpet in a musical, turned sixteen, and had someone I know die. Anyways, let's start 2011 off on a much more lovely foot.**

**Also, I just wanted to thank all of you for reading this. You just make my day.  
**

**HP is (c) J.K. Rowling**

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I was glad I had swallowed my potatoes, or I probably would've spit them all over the table. Instead, I forced myself to calm down for the third time that day. "Sure, Ginny. I'd love to talk to you."

Ginny glared at me in a way that said she knew, and she knew that I knew that she knew. Confusing? Yes. And pretty intimidating. I could tell why so few of the Slytherins bugged Ginny—besides the fact that her brothers would probably hex them back to whatever mansion they came from. That is, if she didn't get to them first.

I stood up, not really wanting to be in the middle of the Great Hall when she… said whatever it was she wanted to say. After five years at Hogwarts, I had a weird defence mechanism that kicked in whenever someone confronted me.

"Come on," Ginny nodded towards the door, and lead me out of the hall. The second we were away from everyone, she shouted, "I never thought you could be this big a jerk, Violet!"

"What?" I asked, totally confused. I hadn't done anything to Ginny, unless… No, she couldn't be upset that I hadn't told her I liked Fred—especially because I wasn't so sure on that myself. But he was her brother, so she had every right to be pissed.

"You knew—you _knew_ what he means to me!" Ginny paced back and forth, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I'm so sorry, Ginny. I-I didn't really think it meant anything," I said. I was pretty much panicking—I didn't know what I'd done, but it had to be pretty bad. What about that time Fred came and found me in the Room of Requirement…? It wasn't like Ginny could know about that, but I wasn't so sure…

"Didn't mean anything? How could it not mean anything—I've liked him for years!"

"Wait a second," I said, and she stopped her pacing. "What are you talking about?"

"You were in the common room with Harry before the first task—Lavender Brown told me you were, uh, pretty _encouraging_."

"Lavender Brown wasn't even there," I said, scoffing. The fourth year had an uncanny gift for spreading all kinds of weird rumours.

Ginny frowned and said, "So you admit it. You and Harry were, well…"

She broke off as if she couldn't bring herself to finish her train of thought. "No, of course not," I said before she could jump to any strange conclusions. "I was in the common room because I couldn't sleep, and Harry and I were just talking. There is absolutely nothing going on between us."

Ginny glared at me for one, long moment. Then she turned and looked at her shoes, her face going red. "Okay," she said. "I just—I had to ask."

I nodded slowly. I wasn't so much annoyed that Ginny had accused me of doing—well, _something_—with Harry. I was just relieved that she believed me when I told her the truth.

"So…" Ginny began. "You look nice."

I turned bright red—I was still wearing mascara and some lip gloss, from when I had thought the twins would still be in the common room and that, by wearing the absolutely minimum amount to make up I could, I would somehow impress them? I couldn't believe my backwards logic, but it was fun to dress up a little. (And yes, I do mean dress up. I don't understand what's wrong with a t-shirt and jeans, or the uniform.)

"Thanks," I said. Ginny still looked guilty, and I didn't feel much better myself. She and Livy were my best friends, and here I was, keeping stuff from them. "Can you believe I was actually trying to impress a guy?"

Ginny's eyebrows shot up, and I quickly added, "Not Harry Potter, of course."

Ginny laughed and I laughed too. Then she smiled a crafty smile that told me she was planning something. "You do realize the Yule Ball is coming up incredibly soon."

"Oh," I said, pretending to be surprised. "So _that's_ what everyone's been going on about for months. Makes sense."

Ginny hit me lightly, and then got serious. "Are you going to the ball, Violet?"

"I'm not sure," I said. "I might have detention."

Ginny scoffed. "McGonagall will let you off—there's no way she would want to miss the ball. I can just imagine her, doing the tango with Snape."

"Ugh, bad mental picture!" I said, picturing Professor Snape with a rose in his mouth, twirling Professor McGonagall around the Great Hall.

Instead of laughing, Ginny's face was screwed up with dread. "What...?" I began, then turned around to follow her gaze. Ginny was staring behind me where, only a few feet away from us, stood Professor Snape.

"Hello, Professor," Ginny said calmly, quickly covering up the fear in her eyes. I was more shocked by that than Snape showing up just as we were talking about him—I didn't think Ginny was afraid of anything.

"Good evening Miss Weasley," he said, glaring down his big nose at her. I'd never hated Snape, unlike, well, most of Gryffindor. He was a brilliant potion maker, and a pretty good teacher, when he wasn't busy making fun of people because their families or marks. But I had to admit it—he wasn't my favourite person in the world.

"Miss Rosebloom," he said, turning his attention to me. Great. Just when I thought he hadn't noticed me. "Professor McGonagall is busy preparing for the Yule Ball, so you'll be spending your detention in the dungeons with me."

"Yes, Professor," I said.

"I'll see you at eight o'clock," Snape said, and walked away.

When he was out of earshot, Ginny burst out laughing. "Yes, Professor," she said in a high pitched voice that was _apparently_ supposed to sound like me. She even curtsied.

"Shut up," I said as we started walking back to the Great Hall.

"Everything alright?" Livy asked as we sat across from her.

"Snape wants to practice his dance moves with Violet tonight," Ginny said, and she and Livy started laughing loudly.

Livy was laughing so hard that she started snorting. She was reduced to giggling by the time George came into the hall and sat down next to her. He raised her eyebrows at her and Ginny, but they were both laughing too much to explain.

"I have a detention—" I began, when Ginny interrupted, "Violet, you'll have to tell us, does Snape wear a leotard when he practices?"

George didn't know what they were talking about, but that didn't stop him from joining in and laughing. Even I started giggling a little. I looked up and down the table, glad that most people had already eaten dinner, otherwise I'm sure we would be attracting quite a few funny looks.

At the far end of the table, a familiar face caught my attention. Fred had parchment and a quill—was he actually doing _homework?_ That was too weird. A moment later Fred folded up the piece of parchment, tapped it with his wand, and sent it flying through the air. It flew so close to me that my heart began to race. Then the parchment hit Angelina Johnson on the shoulder.

Angelina looked up and down the table, and caught Fred's eye. He nodded at the folded note, smiling a small, dangerous smile. Angelina was sitting a few feet away from me, and I could see her return the smile and unfold the parchment, but I couldn't make out what was written on it.

She looked at him with one eyebrow raised, and Fred pointed from her to him, and then mimed waltzing. Angelina blushed and nodded.

I felt like someone had pushed me off of a cliff. My stomach lurched painfully, and my breath caught in my throat.

I turned around to see if George had seen. Livy and Ginny had stopped laughing, and were talking about whether or not it was worth it to sneak off to Hogsmeade one last time before the Ball. I met his sad, blue eyes, and understood.

Livy looked up when I stood abruptly. "Be back later," I said, and George and I walked to the common room in silence.

I thought falling for Fred was bad—this was much worse. Now I was just _falling_.

* * *

The evening passed by in a blur. George told me he hadn't told Fred that he fancied Angelina—but I wasn't sure if he was telling the truth, or just trying to make Fred look better.

"Are you going to be okay?" I asked. We were sitting on a couch in a far corner of the common room. I felt a little bit funny, talking with George about our _feelings_. But he hadn't told anyone else that he fancied Angelina, and besides, I liked spending time with him.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," George said. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Fred didn't know any better. Plus, he's always had better luck with girls. Angelina probably likes him better."

"What?" I said. "George, that's crazy. I'm sure she's completely in love with you—she probably just agreed to go with Fred because he asked her first."

George grimaced, and I realized I was doing a pretty horrible job of cheering him up. It was hard when I wasn't feeling so great myself.

"Would you have said yes?" he asked out of the blue.

"Said yes—to Fred?"

"No," George said. He leaned forward until our faces were just a few centimetres away from each other. My skin felt very warm where we were touching, and I tried my hardest not to blush. "Would you have said yes if I asked you?"

Without waiting for an answer, George closed the gap between us and brushed his lips against mine. It was just a light kiss, and it barely lasted a moment. But that was long enough for me to get a seriously weird feeling, and pull away.

"Violet, I..." George began. Judging by the look on his face, he knew that that had been a bad idea.

"No, George. It's okay; let's just... let's not do that again. I like someone else."

"Yeah," George said. He was back on the other side of the couch now, and his face was as red as his hair. "I kind of figured that."

"You—what?"

"You like Fred. It isn't hard to tell, Violet." George said calmly. Wait, when did that happen? For the whole _few hours_ I had known that I might kind-of-sort-of like Fred, I had been acting completely normal. Or, as close to normal as I can get.

I glanced quickly around the common room. Fred, Ginny and Livy were nowhere to be seen—Fred hadn't seen George kissing me, and no one else had heard what George just said. Maybe, just this once, the universe was going to give me a break.

"How did you know?" I asked quietly.

George smiled. "Well, I wasn't sure, but you just made it pretty obvious."

I could tell my face was bright red by now, so I tried to change the subject. "Who are you going to the Ball with?"

George's expression darkened. Oh, right, Angelina. Wow, I just ruined that conversation.

"I don't know—what about you?" he asked.

"Yeah, right. I'll be lucky if I end up going at all. It's not like I have a date, a dress, or any of those other things you need to attend a dance," I said. I sighed, realizing just how unprepared I was.

"That's no problem—Livy and Ginny want to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow."

"Yeah, except it's against the rules and they want to _sneak out_ to Hogsmeade. If anyone finds out, there's no way we'd be allowed to go to the Ball at all," I said. Sometimes I got annoyed by how easily the others dismissed rules.

George rolled his eyes. "No one has to know. You guys can be back in a few hours and use one of the secret passageways."

"Oh, of course," I said sarcastically. "I forgot it was that easy."

"Hey, when your last name's Weasley," George said and laughed. "That still doesn't get you a date, though, unless you can buy one at Hogsmeade."

I grimaced. "Yeah, not going to happen. I've barely spoken to any boys at Hogwarts, unless I was partners with them in class, or something."

George laughed, and then his face got serious. "Actually, you're right. I don't think you spoke to me before this year—well, maybe to yell at me once or twice."

I tried not to squirm. I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable with George talking about how I used to be—how we used to act around each other. I wasn't embarrassed about how shy and awkward I used to be (and still was) (okay so maybe I was a little embarrassed), but I would definitely rather he didn't bring it up.

"What made you act differently this year?" he asked.

I looked at George. If he and Fred weren't identical twins, I wondered if it would still be so hard to sit there and just talk to him. Maybe if I squinted hard enough, I could pretend I was sitting next to Fred. But no, that wouldn't work—it wasn't just the tiny differences in their looks. Fred and George were two entirely different people, and I was beginning to wonder which one I like spending time with more.

"Honestly?" I asked. It was pretty clear from the look in his dark blue eyes that he wasn't looking for some kind of joke. I guess even a Weasley twin couldn't stay laughing all the time. "I wanted to stand up for myself. Mostly, I just wanted to make you guys feel as bad as you made me feel all the time."

I know it's cliché, but I really did feel like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. I glanced at my watch and realized that I had five minutes to get down to the dungeons before Snape cut me up and turned me into some kind of potion.

I quickly said goodbye to George and, before he could say anything, left the common room, feeling strangely cheerful.

* * *

Turns out, Snape hands out detentions like other people hand out candy on Halloween. When I got to the dungeons, it wasn't nearly as empty and desolate as I had expected. There were five other people standing there, waiting for instructions.

I recognized two Ravenclaws who were part of their house's quidditch team. There was a younger Gryffindor student who was looking around the potions room with wide eyes. He looked completely terrified.

I was about to try and comfort the Gryffindor (because I was feeling so confident myself) when I recognized the other two detention-ees. Lee Jordan and Fred Weasley were standing a little ways away from everyone else, laughing about something. I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the way my stomach clenched when I saw them. I walked as confidently as I could over to the Gryffindor boy and smiled what I hoped was an encouraging smile.

Before I could say anything, Snape walked in, and the boy began twitching. His hands were shaking so badly, I hoped Snape wouldn't make the boy cut up ingredients, or he'd be off to the Hospital Wing in no time.

"Something funny, Weasley?" Snape asked with a glare already fastened on his pale face.

"No Professor Snape," Fred said, sounding so earnest that if it weren't for his constant smirk, I might almost have believed him.

"We'll see how funny you think this is when you're scrubbing dirty cauldrons," Snape said.

"Sparks, Elwood." He turned to address the two Ravenclaws. "You two will be grinding Bicorn horn. Keep it away from your eyes or you can be temporarily blinded.

Snape smirked for a moment, like blinding the Ravenclaws didn't seem like a bad idea. I wondered what they got detention for in the first place—it must've been something pretty bad. Then his face returned to its usual glare and he turned to face the Gryffindor boy.

"Mr. Lewis," he said in a cold voice. The boy was trembling by now. "You will be alphabetizing potions ingredients in my store cupboard. And if I find so much as an eagle owl feather missing, know that the consequences will be severe."

The boy's head bobbed up and down, and he scurried away to the store cupboard. Then Snape looked at me. "Miss Rosebloom, you and Mr. Jordan will be assisting to clean the cauldrons."

I gulped. Detention with Fred? Working _with_ Fred? But, I assured myself, it could be way worse. All we had to do was clean a few cauldrons. How long could that take?

"Oh," Snape said, stopping a few steps from his office door. "And no magic."

"Bloody first years," Lee grumbled, using a wiry brush to scrape some kind of purple gunk off the bottom of a cauldron. "What is this supposed to be? Oy, Violet, what _is _this?"

I glanced over and shrugged. I was sitting a few feet away from Fred and Lee, quietly scrubbing away at a dirty cauldron. Just focus, I kept telling myself. Just focus on your work, however _disgusting _it might be, and get it done.

Try as I might, I couldn't help but glance at Fred. He looked up, and raised his eyebrows. "Let me guess, you used to work as a professional cauldron cleaner?"

I snorted before I could stop myself. "I could do twenty in an hour,"

Fred nodded, looking almost impressed. Of course he was just kidding. It would be hard to be one of the twins, I thought suddenly. Everyone would think you were joking, all the time.

Fred and Lee started talking about whether or not dropping a piano on Snape's head would get them expelled, and I went back to cleaning. The rhythmic scraping of my sponge against the cauldron was almost soothing enough to make me forget what I was actually doing, and my mind wandered.

I thought about what George had said. Maybe I could sneak off to Hogsmeade without getting caught. Maybe I could find an amazing dress, have an amazing time at the ball, and graduate from Hogwarts next year to have an amazing life. Maybe. It was such a big word, that it filled me with a new kind of confidence that I hadn't felt in years.

"Hey, Lee," I said. He and Fred looked up and I forced myself to keep looking at Lee, only Lee. "Are you going to the Yule Ball?"

Lee laughed, "Yeah, I am. Why?"

"I, um, was just wondering... Who are you going with?"

Lee shrugged and said, "You, I guess, since you're doing such a good job of asking me."

I smiled and he smiled back, and I felt a strange warmth spreading through my body, like someone had made me drink a potion, or something. And it felt nice.

* * *

It took us two hours to clean all the cauldrons. I was surprised that no one even attempted to use magic, but, according to Fred, last time he'd used his wand, Snape gave him another week of detention for disobeying him. Fred, Lee and I walked back to the Gryffindor common room with the small, scared looking boy trailing behind us.

I said good night and made my way across the common room to the girls' dormitories when someone grabbed my wrist. I turned to see Fred standing a foot away from me, with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Fred, what are you—?" I began, but he cut me off.

"I hope you have a really good time at the ball," he said, then added, "with Lee."

"Thank you," I said, and, without hesitating, ran up the stairs. Livy was snoring loudly by the time I changed into my pyjamas. I lay on my bed, thinking about the day. The worst part was, I realized, Fred had been completely serious.

* * *

**So... yeah! That's it! Well, not "it" it, because she needs to go to the ball, of course. Okay, now I'm just rambling. It's seriously snowy here, like, potential blizzard conditions. I love it.**

**Question: What would you wear to the Yule Ball/what do you think Violet should wear?**


	13. Chapter 13

**EXAMS! OH NO! I live in BC, Canada, and in grades 10, 11 and 12, everyone in the province writes big scary exams in their basic subjects. I have my English exam on Tuesday. Hence the "OH NO!" Oh my gosh, I suck at taking tests. And there's tons of pressure for this one, because your marks basically determine whether you can get any scholarships, and which universities will accept you. Again: OH NO!**

**I want to give a HUGE shout out to NotADreamYetNotANightmare for sending me pictures to some beautiful dresses on . Really. Thank you. This is kind of what I imagine Angelina to be wearing (**.com/clothing/set?id=25653534**) and this is very Violet (**.com/apps/photos/photo?photoid=50929094**). Just so you know :)  
**

**I'm so sorry that the last chapter took so long to write, so I wanted to send you guys a massive thank you, and a new chapter. Really, if you read this story, if you review, if you even say so much as, "Huh. Took you long enough," when you get an email saying that I've _finally _uploaded a new chapter, then I really love you. **

**That's all my rambling for today. Have an awesome Sunday!**

**HP is (c) JKR  
**

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* * *

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"No, definitely not that one," George said, making a face.

I turned to look at myself in one of the full length mirrors that lined walls of the dress shop. The dress I was trying on was hot pink with a lace-up corset that made it hard to breathe, and so many ruffles that six-year-old me would've died. Maybe he was right.

"No one asked you to come," Livy said, emerging from a dressing room wearing a pale lavender, flapper-style dress. Funny how she gave me all the bright colors to try on. "Besides, I think she looks _fierce_."

I snorted. "Yeah, right. I look like someone ate a dozen ballerinas, and then puked them back up."

"Great visual," Ginny called from inside another dressing room.

"Are you kidding?" George said. He was sitting on a big brown armchair, surrounded by piles of taffeta and lace. "This is fascinating. It's like looking into another world."

George wasn't the only one feeling out of place. I had never done anything like this, trying on dresses, being all girly. It didn't help that I was convinced that, at any moment, a teacher would come into the shop and catch us sneaking out of school.

Livy put a hand on my shoulder. I guess she could tell I was nervous, because she gave me a comforting smile. I smiled back, weakly, and tugged on the ruffled fabric.

"I think we need to get Violet out of that dress," George said, then added, "not in a pervy way, _Olivia._ But look at her, she can barely breathe."

I nodded fervently, and Livy tossed me a light blue dress, saying, "Oh, fine. But just wait—once you find the perfect dress, you'll become a slave to beauty, too!"

We spent the next hour and fourteen minutes—I checked my watch a _lot_—trying on dresses. The highlight of my afternoon was probably when Ginny tried to force George into a bright red cocktail dress, and got yelled at by the shop owner.

While Livy and Ginny went to go pay for their dresses, George and I hung back. I listened to the handful of galleons jingling in my pocket and felt a pang of guilt. I had noticed Ginny only looked through the dresses that were on sale. I hadn't found anything, but I was sure that she would be insulted if I tried to give her some money. I guess I was still stuck on the idea of finding the _perfect dress_. You know what I mean, the one in all the Disney movies. A girl puts on the perfect dress, and the prince suddenly notices her for her new, beautiful self.

Okay, okay, so it's a pretty sexist, shallow idea. But it'd be nice.

I hope someone gets my Muggle references.

George sat down on one of the couches, sighed, and put his feet up on a plush footstool. "Shopping is exhausting," he said with a heavy sigh.

"Tell me about it."

"Hey, how about this one?" George asked. He was holding up something shiny and blue. I didn't realize he was talking about dresses till he pulled it out of the massive pile of clothes on the floor.

I shrugged, and then took another look. The top of the dress looked fitted but—thank God—not corseted. It had a big, full skirt, with a few ruffles, but nothing that made me feel like a Barbie. And it was the most beautiful shade of midnight blue, dotted with silvery beads, like stars.

"It looks... nice," I said. Then I snatched it out of George's hand and ran to the nearest dressing room to try it on. I know it's cliché, but cliché can be good.

Perfect dress.

* * *

Butterbeer is literally the best thing ever. I was only halfway through my first bottle, and I felt better than I had in ages. I was sure it hadn't tasted this good the last time I had it, at the party after Harry's amazing flight with the dragon—when Fred helped me get Livy up to our dormitory, and left me completely and utterly confused.

Good times.

"I'm so excited," Ginny said. She was bouncing up and down in her seat, grinning from ear to ear. "I can't wait till tomorrow night."

"Can't wait to dance with the big N?" Livy asked.

George frowned, but I kicked him under the table before he could say anything. He shot me a glare, but kept his mouth shut.

"Yes, I guess, or... other people," Ginny said, letting her voice fade.

"Other people?" I raised my eyebrows, even though I had a pretty good idea what—or whom—she was talking about. (That's right, _whom_. Grammar skills are life skills, even if you can't hex someone with them.)

Livy tilted her head back to get the last few drops of her butterbeer, then put the bottle back down on the table with a dull thud. I looked around the room to see if anyone had heard her—we couldn't really afford it if someone started asking questions—but no one seemed to notice.

"We should probably get going," I said, anxiousness creeping into my honey-coloured world.

"There's no hurry," George said. Even so, I grabbed my Gryffindor scarf from the pile of discarded hats and mittens at the end of the table, and tied it around my neck.

"I'm afraid you're wrong, Mr. Weasley," a woman's voice came from behind me. Before I could turn to see who it was, I saw George's face go completely pale. Oh no.

"There is quite a hurry." The scarf around Professor McGonagall's neck muffled her voice, but her tone was unmistakable. We were in so much trouble.

* * *

I was so completely miserable that I couldn't even bring myself to say _I told you so._ I shouldn't have gone along with the plan in the first place—and now I was sitting outside Professor McGonagall's office, waiting for my turn to face her wrath.

The big, oak door to her office swung open with an ominous creak. Awesome. Even the _castle_ was against me today.

"Miss Rosebloom, you may come in now," she called from inside her office. Livy walked out, smiling weakly at me as she passed. I tried to calm down—if McGonagall was going to have us thrown into the lake, Livy wouldn't be smiling.

Good thing I could cross that option off my list.

"Please, take a seat," McGonagall said, staring me down from across her desk. I gulped and sat.

"Assaulting a student, then sneaking out of school and going to Hogsmeade without permission, the day before what may well be the only dance you experience at Hogwarts. That doesn't sound like you, Violet."

I grimaced. Even though she was the only teacher who had ever given me detention, Professor McGonagall and I had always gotten along pretty well. And even though I knew I hadn't done anything seriously wrong (unless by _wrong_ you mean completely against the school's rules), having her look at me like she was _disappointed in me_ made me feel ashamed of myself.

"I'm sorry, Professor. I'm so, so sorry. And I promise I'll never do anything like this again."

Right at that moment, what I said was completely honest and sincere. But a second later, I was already thinking of the next thing I could do with George and Livy—the next prank we could pull or whatever else their disturbed little minds came up with.

Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows. Oh crap. She could read minds.

I was done for.

"I don't say this to many people," she began. "But I think that this... rebelliousness I've seen in you lately might actually be a good thing."

My jaw dropped. I gaped at her, sure I had heard her wrong. "You—you're not going to hang me from the Owlery windows?"

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Professor McGonagall said with a small smile. "But don't let this go to your head. I will not tolerate any more misbehaviour. Even if it is nice to see you coming out of your shell."

"So... what's my punishment?" I asked. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to hear the answer.

Professor McGonagall studied a piece of parchment on her desk thoughtfully. "I'm going to have to take fifteen points from Gryffindor for your actions. But maybe you can help us decorate for the ball tomorrow afternoon, and we'll leave it at that."

I grinned. Levitating Christmas trees and charming fake snow sounded like tons of fun. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow, Professor."

Professor McGonagall said goodbye, and I walked back to the common room. I knew that that had been the only time I would ever get away with something as bad as sneaking off to Hogsmeade, so I had better enjoy it.

I hummed to myself as I climbed a flight of stairs, turned a corner, and collided with Fred Weasley. "S-sorry!" I said.

"No, it was my fault," Fred said. "I should've put my turning signals on."

It took me a moment to understand what he said, then I burst out laughing. "Ha, ha... Muggle joke."

Fred grinned. It was quite possibly the most beautiful thing I had ever—no. No. I was going to the Yule Ball with Lee, and Fred was going with Angelina. There was no room for thinking like that.

"I heard you and George snuck off to Hogsmeade," he said. "I'm impressed. The student surpasses the master."

"Okay, okay, you can take it easy on the Muggle jokes," I said. "And yes. George, Livy, Ginny and I just... happened to sneak through the One-Eyed Witch passage."

Fred laughed. "Yeah, I hate when that randomly happens. One minute you're walking to class, and the next you're in Honeydukes, having about a million times more fun. Hopefully McGonagall will still let you go to the ball."

"Yup. I don't know what she told the others, but I just have to help decorate."

"Wow," Fred said. "She must've been in a good mood."

"That or she understood the universal need to find the perfect dress," I said sarcastically.

Fred nodded. "I know exactly what you mean."

Suddenly, I couldn't think of anything else to say. Fred and I stood there, in the middle of the hall, shuffling awkwardly. "I have to—" I began, gesturing in the direction of the common room, at the same time as he started talking.

We laughed nervously, and then Fred said, "I should go. I promised Lee I'd help him charm his dreadlocks so each of them is a different color."

I raised my eyebrows. "I really hope you're joking."

"Well, you'll find out tomorrow night," he said, and walked away.

I watched him leave, smiling at our conversation. Our nice, normal, friendly conversation. I could deal with that. I think.

* * *

Livy woke me up at the crack of dawn the next morning. "We have some serious work to do," she said. Her hair was up in a crazy-messy bun, and she was holding her wand dangerously close to my face. In her other hand, she had a bottle filled with hot pink liquid.

"Livy," I said, fighting to keep my eyelids open. "Is that a love potion?"

She quickly hid it behind her back. "What? No, of course not. Why would you even think that?"

I sighed and sat up. I knew I wasn't going to get back to sleep now. "Livy, are you going to use a love potion on Fane?"

"You must be pretty sleepy, Vi, because you're acting nuts."

I got out of bed, and put on my fuzzy slippers and a sweater. It was freezing, I was tired, and I was almost a hundred percent sure that Livy was hiding a love potion. This day was already off to a great start.

"Come on," I said, and walked past her to the stairs.

"Only if I can paint your toenails!" she called after me.

The common room was empty, as usual, that early in the morning. Everyone was probably still sleeping, getting ready for their big day. As soon as I saw a couch, I collapsed onto it and pulled a blanket over my face. A few minutes later, I heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and Livy's voice.

"I have Perilous Pink, Terrific Turquoise, and Midnight Madness," she said, sitting down on top of my legs.

"Unnnagggghhhh," I groaned.

"Sorry, I don't think I quite caught that," Livy said, pulling the blanket down and putting her face right in front of mine. "Can you repeat yourself, Mrs. Jordan?"

"Can you shut your face?" I said, but I sat up anyways. "What if we make a deal, Livy?"

"Depends what it is," she said, reading the back of the nail polish I gave her for her last birthday. "Do you know what _stearalkonium hectorite_ is?"

"You can paint my nails if you tell me what's up with the love potion. Those things are totally against the rules, you know."

Livy scowled. "That's a horrible deal. But, if I get to paint your nails..."

A few minutes later, both our feet were propped up on the coffee table. Her nails were painted a near-blinding shade of pink, and mine were Midnight Madness—hopefully they'd go with my dress, not that anyone would see them.

"Okay, my turn," I said.

"It isn't a love potion," Livy said with a sigh. "It's just perfume with a... extra pinch of love in it?"

I rolled my eyes. "Livy, Fane is already crazy about you. Plus, a love potion—or whatever it is—can really mess someone up."

"Why?" Livy asked. "It's not like we can control who we like as it is. And it's not for Fane."

"Who's it for, then?"

Livy just shook her head. I was happy that she had told me as much as she had, and I didn't want to push it—especially not today. Today was the Yule Ball. Today was supposed to be good.

"So, what are your plans for this ungodly hour?" I asked.

Livy's face instantly lit up. "First, I was thinking we could figure out some charms for your hair, then pick out shoes and jewellery—oh, and I need your help charming my hair to stay un-frizzy all night."

Getting ready for a dance was so much different when you could perform magic.

"Sounds good," I said, admiring my sparkly blue toe nails. "Oh, but I have to help Professor McGonagall decorate."

Livy made a face. "I can't believe that's all she's making you do. George, Ginny and I all got two weeks of detention starting the day after the ball. Something about _not learning from our past mistakes_."

I shrugged. I hadn't told anyone what Professor McGonagall told me, and I didn't plan to.

Livy waved her wand at our feet, instantly drying the nail polish. Then she stood up and smiled. "Let's get to work."

* * *

Three hours later, I walked into the Great Hall. My eyebrows were perfectly shaped, I'd put countless creams on my face, and my hair was up in a tight bun that Livy said would keep my hair "light and fluffy" till that night.

"Good, you're here," Professor McGonagall said. She showed me how to hang the silver-and-blue ornaments on the Christmas trees—there were at least a dozen of them—and told me to get to work.

The baubles looked so... so _magical_, floating through the air and landing on a Christmas tree that was dusted with real snow. Sometimes, I forgot just how amazing it could be to be a witch.

I was almost done decorating my third tree when I heard someone behind me. I turned around, and saw Fred hanging a set of bright blue lights on a Christmas tree next to me.

"Where did you come from?" I asked, moving my wand sharply and sending a silver bauble flying through the air. Someone on the other side of the room yelled, and I muttered, "Accio," till the decorations were safely back in the box.

"The Burrow. Or my mum, if you want to get particularly personal," he said, not looking at me. He was moving his wand in small circles and making the lights wind themselves around the tree.

"I _meant_, why are you here? I thought you'd be, I don't know, getting ready for the ball."

Fred looked at me blankly. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm a guy. I just have to put on my dress robes. It'll take, literally, thirty seconds."

"Ugh, never mind," I said, turning back to my tree.

"Since you asked, though, I actually came to see you."

I whirled around to look at him, but he was focussing on his lights. Had that just happened, or had I imagined it?

"W-what did you just say?" I asked.

"Nothing," Fred said, but his face was bright red. "Nothing at all."

* * *

"Ginny, get your ginger butt out here!" Livy yelled. She was sitting on the corner of her bed, being careful not to wrinkle her dark green dress. Yes, _Olivia _was wearing an _olive green_ dress, and believe me, we had already made every dumb joke imaginable about it.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Ginny said. A moment later, she came out of the bathroom, looking absolutely beautiful.

It didn't matter how much her dress cost—Ginny looked amazing. The dress was a bright, robin's egg blue. It was silky and flowed like water over her smooth, porcelain skin, and it looked great with her red hair.

"Okay, Vi, you have approximately ten minutes to get ready before I punch you in the nose because _we're going to be late_," Livy said, hitting her head lightly against the edge of her bed. It didn't matter that she had taken an hour to get changed.

"Okay, okay, I'll hurry." I got in the bathroom and slipped on my navy blue dress. I felt the same way I had when I tried it on the first time; beautiful. I quickly put on some gray eye shadow and black mascara. Then I looked at myself in the mirror. Livy had charmed my dark hair to fall in shiny curls around my shoulders, and if I lifted the hem of my dress a little, I could see my Midnight Madness toenails.

I took a deep breath, and nodded at my reflection. Whatever happened tonight with Fred and Lee and Livy and her not-a-love-potion, and Ginny and Harry, or Ginny and Neville, and Fane and whatever was going on with him and Livy... Well, it would be okay. I was ready for it.

"That's enough primping!" Livy yelled and threw open the bathroom door. She stopped in her tracks when she saw me. "Wow, Vi, you look great."

"Thanks," I said. I could feel my face going red. "Would you mind zipping me up?"

I turned around and Livy did up my zipper. Then she said, "It was a love potion."

I hopped up on the counter, and motioned for her to sit next to me. She was playing with the hem of her dress and not making eye contact; it seemed like she wanted to talk.

"Don't worry—I got rid of it. I just... I don't think this is easy for anybody."

I nodded. For some reason, I felt like I knew exactly what she meant. I forced a smile and said, "Well, aren't we going to be late?"

Livy looked at the clock and swore. Then she pushed Ginny and I out of the room, almost colliding with the door frame on her way out. Angelina, Katie and Alicia joined us at the top of the stairs—they had been getting ready, too, and, as much as I hated to admit it, all of them looked completely stunning. Especially Angelina, who was wearing a floor length red dress. But I bit my lip to keep from saying anything, and smiled.

"You look great, Violet," Angelina said.

"Thanks," I said. My face was officially beet red by now. "You look amazing."

I started walking down the stairs, and saw Fred standing in the common room. He was wearing simple black dress robes that clashes brilliantly with his fiery red hair. Our eyes locked for a second. It was just enough time for me to imagine how this night could have gone. Fred, looking cool and collected, but obviously eager, waiting at the bottom of the stairs for me, his date, to arrive. I would awkwardly compliment him, using words like _spiffy_ and _dapper_, and he would call me beautiful.

Then he turned and smiled at Angelina.

I shot George what I hoped was a reassuring smile, and then grinned at Lee. He looked awesome—he was wearing a navy blue suit with a dark blue tie that matched my dress perfectly. You know, if you care about that kind of thing. And even if you don't, it feels undeniably good to know that you belong with someone else. Or, at least, you look like you do.

"You look very dashing tonight," I said when we reached the common room. I was glad to see that his hair was still it's normal brown.

"Thanks, Vi. You look beautiful."

I grinned a big, goofy grin and put my arm in his.

* * *

**QUESTION: What is your best or worst experience at a school dance?**

**In eighth grade, I slow danced with a boy for the first time (I know, I know, I'm a loser-but the guys at my school before then didn't even know how to sway to music, let alone dance. I KID YOU NOT). The boy was/is one of my okay friends-someone I know enough to say hi to, but not enough to really talk to. We just kind of stood there and moved back and forth, mumbling song lyrics and not making eye contact with each other. FAIL!**

**I think dances are really great when you don't take yourself too seriously, and just accept that you probably aren't very good. It's so much more fun to look like an idiot!  
**


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